


A Mess of Unfinished Thoughts

by octobergryphon, QueenVee1



Series: The Great Design Unfinished [2]
Category: Captain America, MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Covenant (2006), Thor - Fandom
Genre: AU Covenant, AU magic, All the swears, Anal Sex, Assault, Au modern with magic, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Sam Wilson, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Blow Jobs, Body Horror, Choking, College, Different Powers, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, F/F, F/M, Fingering, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Gore, Knives, M/M, Magic, Multi, OT3, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Rimming, ShieldShock - Freeform, Slow Burn, Smut, Stucky - Freeform, Threesome, Torture, UST, Violence, WinterShieldShock - Freeform, WinterShock - Freeform, bring your ale, framily, frat houses, handjobs, lots of blood, snake god cults, the slowest of burns, we tried to make it fluff, wintershield - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-09-07 14:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octobergryphon/pseuds/octobergryphon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVee1/pseuds/QueenVee1
Summary: The Sons of Ipswich possess otherworldly powers, but they are not the only ones with this gift.After his recent Ascension, Steve Rogers is glad when his life finally seems like it's going back to normal. As the fall semester hits hot and heavy, their group of friends are doing their best to stay focused. Steve's excited to spend time with his boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, and the rest of their slowly growing friends group.Holidays with Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, and Bucky's twin, Bekah, bring everyone closer than they've ever been. With the new addition of Darcy Lewis, it appears everything is going great ...... but whenfeelingsare revealed, Steve and Bucky are faced with obstacles that they hadn't seen coming.Part Two of The Great Design Unfinished series.





	1. A Mess Of Unfinished Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> The long awaited sequel to The Great Design Unfinished! While TGDU was about building the little universe we're playing in, this one is all about the relationships! Great ready for some UST, some smut, and the _slowest of slow burns_!  
>  
> 
>   
>    
> 

Before Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes could pull out their keys to get into the house, Winifred Barnes pulled open her front door, wearing a brightly colored cardboard cone on her head that read ‘Happy Birthday!’ across the front. She blew hard on the noisemaker between her lips, grinning around it as both Steve and Bucky’s eyes grew wider. “Hamphry thirthbee!”

Bucky shook his head at his mother, lifting his arm and hiding his face in his palm, shaking his head forlornly. Honestly, he should have known better than to hope for a _normal_ birthday with their families, especially since this was such a momentous one. “Really, Ma?”

“It’s not just her,” George Barnes said, opening the door wider before mimicking his wife and blowing, the paper extending toward the boys who were still standing on the threshold, dual expressions of embarrassment on their faces. 

“You should be happy that’s all they did,” Sarah Rogers said, grinning brightly at her son and Bucky. “There may have been talk about a birthday suit. They shot down my idea of glitter bombs. Winnie kept mumbling something about craft herpes.”

Steve moved to hide his face in Bucky’s neck, almost knocking into him before remembering that he was taller than his boyfriend now. He still managed to hide in Bucky’s hair from behind, refusing to meet his mother's eyes. “Ma. Can you, just this once, _not_ talk about STIs during Sunday dinner?” Steve pleaded, his ears turning hot. 

Between being a nurse and being Sarah Rogers, no subject was too embarrassing or too shameful to discuss, and over the years, they’d _all_ learned that lesson in one way or another. His head bobbled as Bucky tried to smother his laughter. “We can’t at least pretend we have some sense of dignity?”

“Not a chance,” Sarah replied, reaching out to tug at Steve’s hand and tug him toward her. “I need a hug, my boy. Come inside and let me take a look at you.”

Steve let his mother pull him inside, past the foyer and into the parlor where there was more room. He was much taller than his mother now, even more than he’d been at the beginning of the summer, and he knew it would take some time for the adjustment. His ma seemed so tiny to him, now that he could actually see the top of her head, and Steve could easily make out the sporadic glints of silver in her hair. He couldn’t hide the small smile on his lips as he looked down at her, cheeks heating at the scrutinizing look in her bright blue eyes.

“Alright, boyo. Stand right there.” Sarah squinted up at him, gaze considering, moving her attention from one place to the next. The first obvious thing she could see was how tall he’d grown. Just a scant few months ago she’d been able to look him in the eye, but now he had quite a few inches on her. His face had lost the last of his baby fat, though he hadn’t had much weight on him to begin with. His eyes were brighter without his glasses, and the width of his chest and shoulders was impressive.

The longer Sarah looked at her son, the wetter her eyes became. Her hands reached out to pat Steve’s chest, smiling softly at the muscles under her palm, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “You look so much like your father,” she said, unable to hide the emotion in her voice. “God, and like my uncle Michael, too. Rascals, the lot of you.”

Steve nodded when she cupped his cheek with his hand, feeling his own throat tighten at her words. He wondered if he ought to tell her he’d seen his dad, that night in the barn when his Power had arrived, but it didn’t feel like it was the right time. He’d tell her one day, about how proud Joe Rogers had looked, and about what he’d glimpsed of the other side. One day. When Sarah opened her arms, Steve went into them immediately, returning her tight squeeze with one of his own. He could rest his chin on the top of her head, and he did so with an honest smile.

George Barnes cleared his throat, coughing past the emotion that had traveled to his chest at the mention of Steve’s father, his best friend. “I know you called after, but I’m assuming everything else went alright? That lightning storm was a bit of a doozy.”

Bucky glanced over at his dad then nodded, eyes warming as he watched Steve and Sarah embrace. “It was… not what we expected.”

“It never is, dear. Everyone’s is different,” Winnie said, pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket and dabbing at her eyes with it, face soft as she saw the pride beaming in Sarah’s eyes. “Your father was convinced he could talk to Mr. Peepers.”

“That is nowhere near the truth, my love,” George said, rolling his eyes softly at his wife, who’d always had a flair for the dramatic. “I said that it seemed like I could understand him better.”

“Well, he was a rather smart beagle, gods rest his soul.” 

Steve pulled away from his mother, sniffling slightly as he turned toward the Barnes family. “Dad said he couldn’t quite describe it, even all that time later. I get what he meant now.” 

George pulled Steve into a bear hug, squeezing the younger man hard enough that his back popped. “Joe’d be proud of you. Hell, _I’m_ proud of you. All of you. Happy Birthday, Steve.” He released Steve, patting him on the shoulder before pulling his own son into a hug. “It’s about time the two of you came up for air and out to dinner.”

“You say that as if you didn’t threaten to put an embargo on birthday presents as leverage for us showing up,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes as his mother pulled Steve in for a hug of her own.

“I’m sure you misunderstood,” Winnie said as she pulled back from Steve with a smile, reaching up to pat his cheek with her palm. “Tone is so hard to convey in text. If you’d pick up the phone, you’d realize all I said that his presents were here and if you wanted to get them, you’d have to come in person. Presents for presence. Call it a new family rule.”

Steve watched his boyfriend roll his eyes at his mother’s musings. “You know you didn’t have to get me anything, right? I’ve already got everything I need.” he said, cheeks heating.

“Of course you do, but you can still _enjoy_ something without _needing_ it.” Sarah wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist, knowing that she’d fit under his arm like she had under Joe’s, still marveling at how much her son had grown. She’d seen the same with the other boys, but this was _her_ boy and, somehow, that made it feel different.

When Steve looked over at him, Bucky shrugged his shoulder at his boyfriend, a smile on his lips. Their families had always been like this - in for a penny, in for a pound - so he and Steve had known what to expect. Their Sunday Dinner tradition had started in high school, more often than not with all four boys in attendance, but over the past few years with them in college, it’d become harder and harder with everyone’s schedule. Despite his grousing, Bucky loved being able to come home and share a meal with their family, wishing Bekah was home more than just on holidays and during the summer. 

When they made it into the dining room, both Steve and Bucky laughed a tablet that’d been set up in Bekah’s usual spot. It was wearing a birthday hat and had its own place setting. Steve answered when it blooped with an incoming call, placing the tablet far enough back that everyone could see it. “Hey, Bex. Are you doing something different with your hair? You've changed, and I can't quite put my finger on it.”

“You’re an ass, Steven Rogers, despite it being your birthday,” Bekah said with a roll of her eyes as she popped up in frame, leaning into the camera and looking at him with a critical eye. “You don’t _look_ any different.”

Winifred gave her daughter a shake of her head. “Your camera must be malfunctioning because he’s at least, what do you think, George? Six inches taller?”

“At least,” the Barnes patriarch suggested as he pulled the chair out for his wife, then moved toward Sarah to do the same. “At probably the same in width, too.”

“Ugh. Gross. I don’t need to hear about his girth.”

“ _Width_ , Rebekah, he said _width_. For fuck’s sake,” Bucky groaned, ignoring the smug look on his sister’s face as she fell onto her bed, the image of her shaking and making him slightly nauseous.

“Oversharing, Barnes twins. Personal foul. I have thrown the flag,” George cried out with exasperation, glaring in his children’s direction. Their behavior wasn’t any different than usual, however, and as the twins turned toward each other with smirks on their faces, he shook his head sadly from side to side.

Turning away from his sister, Bucky nodded in his father’s direction then toward the kitchen. “We can bring everything out?”

“Oh, no, I can do that,” Sarah said, jumping up to help. However, she was assured by George and Bucky that they were perfectly fine grabbing the food, and that she ought to spend time catching up with her son. Letting out a small sigh of acquiescence, Sarah smiled at them as they disappeared before turning her blue gaze toward Steve. “How do you _feel_ , son of mine?”

“Taller,” Steve started, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’d never been able to break. “I can breathe without wheezing, and I can _see_. I keep going to put my glasses on or push them up my nose, and they aren't there. It's just weird. My body’s gotten used to everything and I’m not feeling that electricity under my skin anymore. I think.”

Winnie snorted, reaching for the wine that they’d set out earlier to breathe. “I’ll never understand how you boys do it. Don’t get me wrong, us ladies have to deal with a bunch of changes, most of them seemingly overnight, but I do not envy those growing pains of yours.”

“We women have our own powers,” Sarah said, holding out her glass in a toast.

“Damn right,” Bekah said, producing her own drink and extending it toward the camera.

“I’m hoping everything settles down so that I can buy clothing that’ll still fit after a week,” Steve said, looking up when Bucky pushed through the doors, one his Ma’s famous roasts in his hands. Steve turned back toward his mother, dipping his chin in her direction. “Ma, you didn’t have to do all this. We’ll be having a giant meal in a few weeks, anyway.”

“Pish posh,” Sarah said with a placating wave of her hand, “if my boy’s favorite meal is roast, then he eats roast on his birthday. Besides, Thanksgiving is for turkey, and ham, and hearing Papa Wilson yell from the other room about deflated balls.”

“God, Steve, you’re such a Yankee,” Bucky teased, thickening his accent as he placed the roast in front of Steve in the middle of the table. It was surrounded by thick roasted vegetables, everything cooked to perfection, just like always. He’d been looking forward to eating something other than pizza for the past week, and was more than happy to take advantage of Steve’s birthday to do so.

Steve frowned at Bucky, glaring softly in the other man’s direction “Shut it. Barnes, your people came over on the Mayflower.”

A snort was heard from the tablet and the Barnes twin on the other side. “Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?”

“It would probably interest you to know that your brother has just made a rather rude hand gesture where you can’t see it,” Winifred said toward the tablet, an exasperated tone coloring her voice as she glared in her son’s direction.

“As if Bekah’s never done such a thing,” Bucky said with an offended burst of air as he slid into the chair beside Steve. “If you knew some of the things she got up to in high scho -”

“ _I will murder you in your sleep, James Buchanan!_ ” 

George placed his hands on the top of the table on either side of his plate before taking in a deep breath then letting it slowly. “Can we just have _one_ meal that doesn’t involve a threat of bodily harm?” The snorts from both Sarah and Winifred were heartfelt, and as the three children laughed, George shook his head forlornly, knowing his question would never have a satisfactory answer.

“You’ll have to get past Steve now, with all his girth,” Bucky quipped, deliberately avoiding looking at Steve. He knew how easily his boyfriend blushed and feeling Steve glower in his direction was punishment enough. He speared another potato with his fork, looking up at his dad with a smirk. “There’s that super hearing, too.”

“I just love how my Sunday birthday dinner is a quiet time, with genteel manners and topics. No blood, no innuendo, no medical oddities. Such a delight,” Steve said dryly, kicking Bucky in the shin beneath the table and leveling a soft glare in his direction.

“James, dear, I think that gesture means something else if you put both your middle and pinkie finger up. Almost but not _quite_ the shocker,” Sarah replied before grabbing her wine glass and taking a sip. 

Steve knew she’d said it with the express intention of getting a reaction and that she’d win if he did so, but the idea that his Ma even knew what ‘the shocker’ _was_ made the roast in front of him less appealing. “I blame the internet,” he said, staring at a spot near the center of the table.

“The internet is for porn,” Winnie said with a shrug, eyes sparkling at Sarah over the rim of her wine glass. One of their favorites games was finding out how just much they could make their children blush, and now that all the children were all grown, it had escalated their game to a whole new level.

“Steve, we should go. There are _no_ presents worth this torture,” Bucky said to Steve out of the corner of his mouth, giving his lover a sideways glance.

Steve’s bottom lip jutted out as he blinked at Bucky slowly, filling his eyes with faux sadness. “But... roast.”

“Yeah, Jimmy. _Roast_. You guys get roast and I just have microwave mac and cheese,” Bekah commented around a spoon, holding up the suspicious container for all to see.

“Rebekah, you have a meal plan,” George said with a frown at the tablet that served as his daughter’s proxy, “you get three squares a day. I know because it comes on the bill every semester.”

Bekah shrugged her shoulders at her father’s comment. “But it’s so far away.”

“It’s on the first floor of your building,” Bucky said with a shake of his head toward his sister.

“Like I said: _far_.”

“I swear, I don’t know how you kids are still alive,” Winifred said, refilling her wine glass. “That was the reason we started this Sunday tradition in the first place. We wanted to ensure you’re getting at least one good meal a week.”

“...and because you love us so much, right Ma?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at his mother.

Winifred smiled at her son, eyes filled with mirth. “Sure, James. That too.”

The sprawling campus that made up Trinity College was crisscrossed by sidewalks and wide open expanses of grass. In the warmer months, rousing games of ultimate frisbee would take over the landscape, but ever since the weather had turned toward something frostier, outdoor activities that didn’t include football tailgates were few and far between. Football had never really interested Darcy, and shivering while watching someone in a chicken costume attempt cartwheels wasn’t her idea of a good time. She’d asked Jane once why their mascot was a tiny fluffy chicken, but the only answer her best friend had given her was ‘ _people were weird in the 1800s._ ’ Not exactly a satisfying explanation.

Equally unsatisfying was Darcy’s search for a podcast that would keep her awake through her next class. Her thumb swiped over her phone, navigating the sidewalk by muscle memory. She pressed the download button on the last episode of Last Podcast on the Left, looking forward to the gallows humor and jokes, wondering if she should wait to listen to it with Steve at the diner during their next late-night non-studying study session.

“Hey! Darcy!” Clint waved his arms as he yelled from across the street, watching as she turned to look over her shoulder at him. Unconcerned with the fact that the traffic signal was a flashing orange hand, he dodged and wove between cars until he was closer and didn’t have to shout. “Darcy, lovely lady, my sister in all things sugar and spice. Where you headed?”

Darcy spun toward Clint’s raised voice, wide eyes watching as he bound toward her on the sidewalk. It was obvious he’d had one too many espressos that morning, and his presence _alone_ was enough to wake her up, caffeine assistance not required. “Wow! Hi, yeah. You know, just headed to my literature class at Koenig Hall.”

“Oh, I’ve got a class there next-ish. I’ll walk with you.”

Darcy laughed, looking over at Clint with a raised eyebrow. He seemed to vibrate with energy next to her, and she knew from experience that it was not normal for him to be this alert first thing in the morning. “How are you doing?”

“Me? Oh, I’m fine. You know. Classes. Walking.” Clint looked ahead, ignoring the bewildered look Darcy was giving him, doing his best to appear at ease. In reality, his amused eyes were scanning the faces of every person that walked by, his gaze flicking toward every alley or equally dangerous areas between buildings. The anger still burned in his chest at the knowledge that Ward had put his hands on her, and Clint half-hoped he’d get a chance to show the bastard just how big of a mistake he’d made messing with someone about whom he cared. “They say it’s going to snow soon.”

“Don’t you wish that juju on us, Clint Barton,” Darcy said with a glare in his direction, hitching her backpack higher on her shoulder as they traversed the campus. “Let it stay this nice for a while. Cold enough for a jacket but not too cold for flip-flops.”

Clint shook his head, glancing down at Darcy’s bare feet to find her toes were painted with bright blue sparkles. He’d grown up in Iowa, the cubic zirconia of the Midwest, but even _he_ thought it was too cold to go without real shoes. “It’s already past that time. It’s sweatpants and Uggs weather now.”

Darcy gave him a scandalized gasp, reaching out to punch him in the arm. “First of all, even if there’s snow on the ground, you can navigate with flip flops if you’re careful. Secondly, I do not own _Uggs_ and you wouldn’t want to wear them in the snow anyway! They’re suede. They’d do horrible in slush.”

Clint grinned to himself as she continued on her diatribe against suede shoes, his eyes alert and on a swivel.

*~*~*~*~*

“Hey Darce!”

Turning at the voice calling her name, Darcy smiled as she caught sight of Sam jogging across the street toward her, waving his apologies after almost taking out a man on a bike. When he got close enough, she gave him a wry grin. “My my, Mr. Wilson! What are you doing on this side of the campus?”

Sam stopped beside her, both hands wrapped around the straps on his backpack, his eyes warming as they landed on her smile. “Well, I _was_ going to meet with my TA for my Family and Marriage Counseling class, but her office hours got canceled, ironically due to a family emergency. You?”

Darcy shrugged her shoulders, hand sweeping toward the row of eateries that lined the street Things were quiet now, but come 1 AM, the street would be full of college students, both those legally able to imbibe and those trying to sneak a drink anyway. It was almost weird going into the buildings when they weren’t dark and colored by disco lights. “I’ve got an hour break. Gonna to shove some food in my mouth. Wanna join me? I’ll try not to get any food on you.”

Glad that he hadn’t needed to invent a reason to stay by her side, Sam nodded and flashed her another Charming Wilson smile. He’d assured Clint that _yes_ , he would keep his eyes open for any sign of Grant Ward, and _yes_ , he wouldn’t do anything to clue her in on their little security detail. In the months he’d come to know Darcy Lewis, he’d also seen how fiercely independent and competent she was. If they got out of this without her setting their asses on fire, Sam would consider the mission a success. “That’s okay. I’ve got good reflexes. Lead the way.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Hey, doll.”

Darcy smiled at Bucky as he appeared at her side, as if by magic. Her eyes hovered on his mouth, watching as his tongue swept along his bottom lip, before she forced herself to look forward. “Jamie, aren’t you supposed to be in civil engineering class right now? Which happens to be on the other side of campus?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, matching the speed of her stride. “It’s college. I can miss a class here and there and still be fine. Besides, it’s much too nice out to be cooped up inside.”

“You’re not wrong,” Darcy agreed. It was the perfect late fall day, full of blue skies and leaves of every color but green. Autumn had always been her favorite, and nothing beat Trinity College in the fall. The people they passed on the sidewalk felt the same, everyone talking with an air of happiness, glad for the respite from light flurries. She wasn’t ready for it to be full winter yet and wanted to draw out the season as long as possible.

“What’s your next class?” Bucky already knew the answer, but he asked anyway, grey eyes flicking from face to face that passed them.

“I’ve got a free period. Was planning to go to the library. I know that’s not your favorite place.” Darcy’d had several conversations with Steve about Bucky’s and the library’s ongoing battle. In fact, Bucky’s pacing had become the main topic during some of their late night visits to the diner, the place she and Steve always seemed to end up after a night of studying.

Bucky frowned, shaking his head. He’d never liked the library. It was always too quiet, too impersonal. And no one appreciated his method of study. “They don’t like me pacing.”

Darcy nodded, grin turning her lips. Jamie really did love pacing when he was trying to solve problems in his head, and she’d watched him do it in his and Steve’s room, Steve and her sharing amused grins as he’d moved from one end of the small dorm to the other. “You just have to know where to hide. There are places in that building where you could set up a tent and live and it’d take _weeks_ for them to find you.”

“Sounds like you’ve given it a lot of thought,” Bucky said, eyes sparkling with humor as his arm lifted to span her shoulders, pulling her against his side. 

Darcy’s grin was bright when she looked over at him. Even though the weather was great and she was perfectly comfortable, she still found herself soaking up his warmth. “Let’s just say that if I’d ended up in a double room and didn’t like my roommate? I had plans.”

*~*~*~*~*

Darcy’s tone was annoyed when the words dripped from her tongue, cutting Clint off before he could speak first. “Let me guess: you just _happen_ to be going in the same direction as I am and want to walk with me?”

To his credit, Clint managed to look sheepish, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. She was glaring at him, eyebrow raised and arms crossed over her chest. Steve had assured them Darcy wouldn’t be particularly happy once she realized what he and the other boys were doing, but they’d all agreed that her anger was a small price to pay for helping her stay safe. 

“Uhhh, yes?” Darcy shook her head and started walking away from him, her steps quick and determined. Clint had to jog to catch up with her, his shoes slapping against the damp sidewalk. “Would that be such a bad thing?” he asked, falling in step beside her.

“Between the four of you boys, it’s like I’ve got some sort of security detail. _Why_?” Darcy stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, hitching her backpack further up on her shoulder, face curled in annoyance. 

People grumbled and shot them dirty looks as they were forced to go around them since Darcy had planted herself like an island in the middle of the sidewalk. Clint sighed, wrapping his fingers around her arm lightly and directing her away from the flow of traffic. “We’re just watching out for you, Darce, that’s it,” he said, voice low and light.

Darcy’s arms remained crossed over her chest as she glared, nostrils flaring with exasperation. “I’m not some damned damsel in distress, Barton.” 

Clint appreciated her use of alliteration, but flinched at the way she’d said his last name. He’d come to know that when Darcy used last names she was angry. And she was _scary_ when she was angry. “We know that -”

“I haven’t seen Grant in _weeks_ ,” she continued. “He hasn’t texted, he hasn’t called, hasn’t ‘accidentally’ run into me on the street...”

“You ever stop to think that maybe that’s because we’ve been around you the whole time?”

Darcy sighed, closing her eyes in frustration. Her face softened when she opened her eyes and saw the genuine sincere look of worry on Clint’s face. “Clint, I love that you boys are worried about me. I love how much you care, I really do. But I can protect myself. I’ve got a monkey fist. I’ve got keys. I’ve got a taser -”

A bark of laughter tore itself from Clint’s throat. “A _taser_?”

“Hells yes,” Darcy said with gusto and confidence, “and I’ve used it before. I know how it works.”

“That’s awesome! What’d they do to earn your fury?”

Darcy took a menacing step closer to him, the volume of her voice lowering. “They underestimated my ability to take care of myself.”

Clint’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline, at her tone as well as the look in her eyes. He could feel the weight of her attention biting up and down his arms like her glare was something physical. He’d grown up scared of Bekah’s angry face, Bucky’s twin frightening enough all on her own, but Darcy was giving Bekah a run for her money. “That’s... terrifying.”

“Good,” Darcy said, her chin jutting out defiantly. “And if Grant _does_ try anything, he’ll learn that I have no qualms about hurting someone before they hurt me.”

Sighing, Clint draped his arm over Darcy’s shoulders and steered them in the direction of her next class. “I get it, I do. But I’m not going to stop worrying. You’re our Darcy. We watch out for our own.”

The righteousness sapped her energy and Darcy sagged against him a bit. Despite her bravado, the look in Grant’s eyes on Halloween haunted her dreams. Sleep wasn’t easy to fall into anymore, between the dreams and the insomnia. But the library was open twenty-four hours a day, and she knew the places she could hide, where she could be truly alone if she wanted. It helped that Steve was always up for a two am trip to the diner, which was quickly becoming a common occurrence between the pair.

“You’re buying me dinner,” Darcy said, glancing over at him. Clint was only a few inches taller than her, the closest of the boys to her size, and she appreciated being able to look him in the eyes. He glanced over at her with a smile, and despite her frustration minutes prior, she tucked herself further under his arm.

“Darcy, I hate to tell you, but my heart already belongs to another. It beats for no one but my lady fair.”

“Whatever, Clint. You’re not my type anyway.”

_Darcy was cold. She was_ so _cold, and damp, and she couldn’t feel the end of her nose or her fingers. Her feet ached like she’d been in heels and walked miles on cobblestones. Why couldn’t she get warm? Why couldn’t she see herself or where she was? She could feel her glasses on her nose, so it wasn’t that she’d lost them or they were dirty. No. It was something else. She didn’t know_ how _she knew it, but there was something wrong with the air around her._

_Everything was dark in the room, cold, and Darcy's eyes strained to find any light source. Faintly, she saw a glow of purple in the middle of the floor. She walked closer, squinting at the drain and the softly glowing color that surrounded it. The color and consistency looked as if someone had torn opened up a glow stick and splattered it around all over the floor. She bent at the waist, trying to peer into the dark hole, looking for some way to find out where she was._

_Before she knew what was happening, she was falling. Darcy screamed, hands clawing at the dirt as she tumbled, trying to find purchase to stop herself. She felt several of her nails break on the rough stone walls as she fell, her screams echoing, the tone desperate. To her shock, she felt hands wrapping around her legs and arms, fingers digging into her flesh. She slapped at them, wrenching herself from their grip, knowing that if she let them catch her that she'd never be heard from again. There was only death and decay, and just when she thought she'd been captured, she was falling again._

_Darcy grunted when she landed on a bed of soft grass. She lifted her hands, running them over her body, looking for the scratch marks she knew the hands had torn into her skin. Surprised when she found nothing, her wide eyes looked up, trying to place where she was. The sky was overcast, grey and unending, and Darcy climbed uneasily to her feet, blinking at the sea of people who stood in front of her. She could only see their backs, but Darcy knew that something was off and she felt the hair on her arms and on the back of her neck lift with alarm._

_She tried to call out to them, but her voice had left her. She opened her mouth but no sound came. Darcy pressed a hand to her throat, doing her best to scream, but it was no use. She took a stumbling step forward, reaching out to grab someone's arms as she began to fall. Expecting the person to turn toward her, she was surprised when it appeared her hand on their arm did nothing, and they stayed frozen. Darcy rounded the man, attempting to gain his attention. She felt a punch to the gut as her eyes landed on his face. His nose was crinkled, a sneer on his face as he appeared to be shouting something._

_Taking a step away from the man, Darcy searched every face she could see, finding them all turned in some sort of dark expression, several of them lifting their hands in triumph. They all appeared to be looking at something, and Darcy weaved in and out of the bodies, making her way to the front of the group. When she cleared the sea of scornful people, none of them even glancing her way, Darcy let out a gasp and clasped a hand over her mouth._

_Beneath a large tree on the hill stood a woman, hands clasped in front of her and tied together with rope. She was wearing a black dress with a white collar, blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun at the base of her skull. She was standing on a wooden barrel, a noose wrapped around her neck, a man in a black hood standing to her left. Darcy tried calling out, tried running forward, but her body did not respond. She seemed stuck to the ground, rooted and immobile. As soon as she was frozen, everyone else was released, and Darcy was surrounded by the din of the crowd, screams of_ 'Hang her!' _and_ 'Kill the witch!' _on all sides. They lifted their hands, shaking their fists in the woman's direction._

 _The woman stayed silent. the fear in her eyes immeasurable, and Darcy felt her stomach drop as the hangman turned and pressed the heel of his boot against the top of the barrel. Though she attempted to move, Darcy could do nothing but watch as the hooded man drew his leg back to deal the fatal kick that would rob this terrified woman of her life. Her tear-filled gaze swept up to the woman, feeling a jolt of electricity when she found the woman's ice-blue eyes staring_ right at her _. Heart skipping a beat, Darcy watched the woman's lips move, forming words that were somehow carried to her ears._

**Let them not be damned, they know not what dangers they court.**

_The sound of the hangman's boot hitting the wooden barrel sounded as loud as a gunshot. Though her mouth opened, no scream escaped as she watched the woman fall, the rope going taut. They hadn't gotten a tall enough barrel, and instead of breaking her neck instantly, the woman's legs kicked helplessly as her face began to turn red. The screams from the gathered crowd grew silent, but finally,_ finally _, the sobbing shout from Darcy was loosed in the air, long and loud and heartbreaking. She fell to her knees, the wet grass seeping into her clothes as tears flowed down her cheeks._

_It took almost ten minutes for the woman to die, an excruciating time where Darcy could do nothing but cry. As the woman grew still, legs and arms hanging limply, the crowd began to leave, fading into the gray sky. Darcy knelt there, unable to tear her eyes away, every inhale of breath like knives in her chest. Her fingers dug into the earth, clawing the soil, anger and pain storming in her belly. She looked up one more time, heart stopping as the tree was empty. She only had a second of warning, her stomach clenching with fear when she felt the fan of breath at her ear. The woman's voice was scratchy, raspy, and it made Darcy's veins flow with ice, heart seizing when she felt the rope of a noose wrap around her neck._

**Run!**

Darcy gasped as she sat up in bed, clutching at her neck, coughing as if she'd been the one hanging from the tree. It was still dark on the other side of her window, an open book next to her on the bed. She'd been reading, a first hand account of the hanging of a condemned woman, accused of witchcraft and blasphemy. As she tried to slow her heart rate, Darcy threw her covers from her legs, body feeling feverish. She climbed to her feet, pulling at her pajamas, finding them coated with sweat. Darcy undressed and stripped the drenched sheets from her bed; her mother had insisted she have a waterproof liner on the dorm room mattress, and it meant she was able to replace her sheets with fresh ones with little effort.

Pulling her hair into a ponytail, exposing the back of her neck to the chill in the air, Darcy blinked in the darkness, trying to push aside the feelings from her dream. It was easy to put two and two together, glaring angrily at the book. She'd fallen asleep reading about hangings and witchcraft, and it made perfect sense that it'd followed her into her dreams. Deciding that she wouldn't read anymore first-hand accounts before bed, Darcy slipped back between her sheets, staring at her darkened ceiling, knowing she wouldn't be finding rest anymore that night.


	2. Red Neon Stain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Darcy spend a quiet late night at the diner before returning back to the dorm. Bucky has thoughts. Ward gets angry. Chase gets interested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks! We're trying to get a chapter out weekly to all you lovies! Thanks for all the comments, kudos and reblogs. It gives us life! <3
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The diner was quiet. They weren’t the only ones there, but the other occupants weren’t particularly chatty. A group of older long-haul truckers were sitting at the counter, sipping coffee and discussing the weather they’d expect in the next few hours. The waitress - Anna Marie, with whom Darcy and Steve were now on a first name basis with - rounded to their table and returned with fresh hot cocoas. “Need anything else right now?”

Darcy shook her head, looking up at the pretty brunette with a smile. “No, but thanks.”

“Just give me a ‘holler if you do.”

Chewing on her pen, Darcy glanced back at her textbook, trying to commit the words to memory. She didn’t _like_ not being able to sleep, but at least she was getting some studying out her nightmare-induced insomnia. And having company was nice, even if they hadn’t really talked since they’d arrived.

Her eyes flicked up, watching the slight crinkle in Steve’s forehead as he worked. His pencil moved with precision on the sketch pad, making the long steady lines of someone who was confident in their strokes. She recognized the shirt he was wearing as something Jamie had bought on their last trip to the mall; that wasn’t unusual now, them wearing each other’s clothes, though Darcy could have sworn he’d been a few sizes smaller than Jamie at the start of the semester.

He wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore, either. The thick frames had hidden exactly how piercingly blue Steve’s eyes were, and _boy_ were they gorgeous, though Darcy missed having someone else in the ‘Blind as a Bat’ club of which she was a member.

Thinking about it, she couldn’t remember Steve ever mentioning he was doing something different with his diet, nor had he said anything about going to the gym. But as Darcy’s attention poured over his arms and chest, the blue t-shirt straining over the muscles that bulged beneath the fabric, she was able to see the changes his body had gone through. She realized she’d been staring for far longer than she should and looked down at her book, swearing, cheeks heating.

Steve smiled to himself when he heard Darcy swear under her breath. They’d spent one of their previous diner-insomnia-mornings comparing notes on their favorite swears and curses. Darcy had leant him her copy of _The History of Swearing_ , and she loved it when he’d text her a quote he found particularly interesting or hilarious.

Steve thought Darcy looked tired, but then again, they _all_ did. The ramp up to Thanksgiving break was starting and class work had begun to pile up. Steve looked down at her feet, which were stretched to his side of the booth and resting on the leather beside him. He didn’t know how, but she was _still_ wearing flip flops, even with the dropping temperature. The bright yellow of her polish glinted red, lit by the neon ‘Open’ sign that hung in the window above what had become their regular table.

He flipped the cover on his sketch pad closed and dropped his pencil, reaching out to pull one of her feet into his lap. She looked up at him in alarm, eyes widening, before he squeezed her heel. She swore again, something colorful and filthy, and he watched as her eyes fluttered shut, her head falling back against the seat of the booth. “ _Oh god_ ,” she gasped, sinking into her seat even further.

Steve watched her, face slack, lips parted, and head thrown back. He spent a good ten minutes on her first foot, watching her reactions, figuring out where she was the most sore, discovering the spots that made her wiggle. He switched feet, repeating the same routine. He watched some semblance of peace fill her features, happy that he was able to help her, even it if was just for a few minutes. He kept both feet in his lap when he was finished and squeezed them both once. She opened her eyes, looking over at him with a soft smile. “Okay, another hour, and then maybe bed?” Steve asked.

Darcy nodded, feeling more relaxed than she had in weeks. She wasn’t sure what it was about Steve Rogers that made him so comfortable, but as his fingers had dug into her skin, she’d practically purred like a kitten. He was great at reading people, and something about her must have screamed ‘ _this girls needs a break_.’ She glanced out to the other side of the window, frowning at the darkness.

She knew if she asked, that Steve would walk her back to her dorm room, even though it was almost a quarter mile past his and Jamie’s room. The thought of going all that way just to see him walk away didn’t sit well with her, and with them being as tired as they were, it would be a mercy for both of them if they just stayed together. “Is it ok if I crash with you and Jamie?” She watched his gaze flick up to hers, head cocking to the side at her question. “My dorm is far. Too far. So far.”

Darcy’s question was unexpected, but Steve was getting used to being surprised by her. If he was being honest, the idea of going back to his room and collapsing into bed sounded perfect, and the fewer steps it took to make that happen, the better. “Of course,” he answered with a grin. His face fell a few seconds later, remembering the state of his and Bucky’s room. He’d been planning on picking up, honest he had, but with classes and his insomnia, it’d been put on the back burner. “Just ignore it.”

Eyebrow raising, Darcy frowned at the look on Steve’s face. “Ignore what?”

Steve gestured vaguely with his hand in the air, trying to explain but not finding the energy to do so. “Just… all of it.”

Darcy snorted, watching as he ran a hand over his face. When his gaze looked back up at her, she gave him a tired smile. “Deal.”

He wasn’t sure what had woken him, but Bucky groaned softly as he was pulled from sleep. It was early, and he cast a tired glance at the clock on his bedside table, reading 4:23am. He groaned again, burying his face in his pillow. As he become more conscious, Bucky realized that Steve was _not_ next to him in the bed. Frowning, he squinted into the darkness of their dorm room. It wasn’t uncommon for Steve to be up this early, or to _still_ be awake when his insomnia was bad enough, but more often than not he’d still share the same bed.

It took him a minute, but Bucky recognized the light wash of Steve’s hair in the moonlight that filtered through the curtains, in his own bed and safe. Bucky let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, glad that Steve wasn’t still awake and seemed to be getting some semblance of rest. He paused when he saw movement on the other side of Steve, watching as an arm draped across Steve’s stomach.

Bucky slipped quietly from under his sheets, crossing the room and coming to stand over the two sleeping bodies on Steve’s bed. Steve had one arm thrown over his eyes, his mouth parted slightly in sleep, his breathing deep and even. Steve’s other arm was cradling the person beside him; Darcy’s curly hair spread out behind her in a wave, one arm laid over Steve’s stomach and squeezing him close, her leg placed over and between his, completely entwined around each other.

He stared down at them - light and dark, soft features, and steady inhales and exhales - not completely understanding the swell of emotion that caught in his throat and made it hard for him to swallow. Steve’s tee showed off the muscles he’d gained with his Ascension, shirt straining over his chest and biceps. His pajama pants were snug and low on his hips, pulled lower by Darcy’s leg over his. Darcy was different. She was softer. Curvier. The v-neck she wore showed the perfect amount of skin, highlighting her collarbones. A pair of boxer shorts he recognized as a pair of Steve’s rode high on her thighs, her skin milky and white in the dim light, sprawled up and over his boyfriend.

They were both beautiful, peaceful, and calm, and Bucky had half a mind to crawl into the bed with them, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake them, not when this might have been the first real sleep either of them had gotten in awhile. He moved back to his bed, laying on his side, arm stretched over his head so he could see them. He blinked slowly, grey eyes drinking in the picture they made. Light and dark. Shadow and sunlight. He blinked past his sleepy thoughts of _pretty_ and _happy_ , and let his eyes fall closed, listening to the steady rhythm of their breathing as it lulled him back to sleep.

Everyone knew to stay away from Grant Ward when he was upset. More than a few freshmen had made that rookie mistake, and they bore the actual scars that had come from their foolishness. And, once again, the house had been woken up by the sounds of breaking glass and crashing furniture from within his room, screams of rage interspersed through it all.

Brock Rumlow grinned, taking another swig of his beer as he watched the light peek out from under Ward’s door. The shadows signaled Ward’s movements inside, erratic and volatile. He was enjoying the show with a smirk on his face, but Rumlow straightened when Chase Collins ran up the stairs, anger darkening the other man’s features.

“What the fuck is going on?” Chase growled as he grew closer. This wasn’t the first time that he’d had to deal with Ward’s fucking temper tantrums, but this was unacceptable. The _last_ thing they needed was eyes turning in their direction, especially since they were _so close_ to their goal. “Do you think we want the cops to be called? Do _you_ want to explain what we have in the basement?”

“No,” Rumlow said, face going blank. He knew better than to show any weakness around Zeta’s president. He’d seen first hand what was done to those who faltered in front of Collins.

“What happened?” Chase demanded, glaring at the heads that were peeking out from doorways. When they realized that Chase was turning his attention toward them, all the heads disappeared back into their rooms, closing their doors, leaving him alone with Rumlow in the hall.

“It’s the girl,” Rumlow said with a gesture of his beer bottle toward Ward’s closed door.

“Lewis?”

“I guess so,” Rumlow answered, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m not his keeper.” He schooled his features toward ‘unassuming’ when Chase’s dark glare shined his way. “He’s been following her for weeks. Obviously doesn’t like what he’s seen.”

Chase turned his glare from Rumlow’s face toward Ward’s door, jaw ticking as he tried to figure out the best way to play this. He waved an errant hand in Rumlow’s direction.“Go downstairs. Make sure no one heard anything.”

“What if they did?”

“ _ **Then fix it!**_ ” Chase screamed, face turning red with rage as he glared at the other man over his shoulder. Rumlow flew down the stairs as quickly as he could, putting as much distance between himself and Chase as possible.

Not waiting for permission to enter, Chase pushed his way into Ward’s room. It was in shambles; the splinters of what used to be a desk were strewn across the room, a lamp shattered, the bare bulb shining up from from the ground. A laptop was in pieces, crunching under foot. Chase raised a hand impossibly fast, catching the heavy debate trophy inches before it would’ve slammed into his face.

Ward was panting, bent over from the strength he’d used to throw the keepsake at whoever’d been stupid enough to come inside. Ward’s stormy look didn’t change as he straightened, his face sharp with ire.

Chase dropped the award, letting it fall heavily to the floor near his feet, eyes hard as he stared at the taller man with an unimpressed look on his face. Someone fucking save him from immature fratboys who’d nearly outlived their usefulness. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“What business is it of yours?” The bite of Ward’s words faded as he realized what he’d said, and _who_ he’d said it to.

“It’s my _business_ if your little bitch-fit could jeopardize our plans,” Chase bit out, taking a step forward, eyes flashing. “This shit might have flown years ago, but now _I’m_ the one calling the shots. Do you understand that or do you need me to convince you again?”

Ward’s jaw clenched in an effort not to respond. He knew what the smaller man was capable of. That was a lesson he didn’t need to be taught again. “No,” he spat, fists still balled at his sides. He breathed past his anger until he could talk without throwing things. “They slept together,” Ward growled, the words dripping with hate and rage.

Chase couldn’t care less what domestic issues Ward was experiencing, but as the object of Ward’s obsession directly affected _his_ plans, he had to make sure his assistance wasn’t needed. He wouldn’t let anyone jeopardize his endgame. “Maybe it’s time I take a better look at your situation.”

Ward’s eyes faded until there were no emotion behind them, swallowing what he’d been raging with moments before. He knew what Collins’ brand of ‘help’ looked like, and Ward had no wish to appear weak in front of him. “I’ve tried separating them. She’s being watched by them, _all_ of them. I can’t even get close to her.”

“That’s because you overplayed your hand on Halloween. I _told_ you not to do anything stupid. If you’d just listened to me, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Eyes dead, Ward blinked at Chase, giving him nothing. He made his eyes a black void, erasing any hint of his inner thoughts and feelings so they couldn’t be used against him. He’d perfected the behavior as a child, and had found it an extremely useful tool as an adult. “What did you have in mind?” he asked, ignoring the assumption that this was his fault. _Not my fault. Hers. And theirs._

“I’ll trail after her. You won’t be able to get close to her, not after what you pulled. So _I_ will.” The last thing Chase wanted to do was babysit Ward’s slut, but seeing as Lewis had inserted herself into the four boy’s lives so fully, perhaps he’d be able to think of a way to use her against them. After that, he didn’t give a shit _what_ Ward wanted to do with her. “Tell me what you know. All of it.”

Darcy’s eyes felt gritty with lack of sleep. There was a weird chirping noise coming from another part of the room, and the sun was slanting in from her head not from her right, like it normally did in her room in the morning. While still half asleep, she had the odd thought that maybe she needed to get new pillows, since the one she was squished on was oddly firm.

Oh.

_Oh._

Pulled from the dredges of sleep, Bucky’s face screwed up in a grimace before he squinted against the light pouring into their room. When a squeak sounded from the other side of the room, he lifted his head, blinking in an effort to clear his vision. He watched as a dark mass of hair popped up on Steve’s other side. 

Bucky couldn’t help the lifting of his lips when he watched Steve’s body curl tighter around the person who’d been sleeping next to him. He’d personally experienced the sloth-like grip his boyfriend had in sleep, and it appeared that Darcy would now have that knowledge as well. When Steve’s phone alarm sounded again, Bucky bunched his pillow below his cheek, a grin on his face as he decided to watch how this played out. 

“Steve. Steve. _Steve_!” Darcy hissed, trying to delicately wiggle her way out of his grip. Her memories of the previous night were kind of fuzzy, and from what she remembered, they’d gotten back to Steve and Jamie’s room way too late last night. He’d let her borrow some pajamas, but then after that all she remembered was the warm inviting sheets and rolling over onto her side.

The chirping had to be his alarm. That Steve was _not_ moving to silence. _What the fuck, Steve._

“ _Mmnhgg_ ,” Steve hummed, wanting desperately to stay warm and sleepy. He couldn’t remember the last time he had any real _restful_ sleep, and was not enthused by the fact that he was being jostled. His arm pulled the warm body against his closer, attempting to burrow farther into bed.

Another squeak passed Darcy’s lips as Steve buried his face somewhere in the mass of curls at the nape of her neck, feeling his breath pass over her skin and making her breakout into goosebumps. “Steve, your alarm. Make it stop. Please, _please_ make it stop.”

It would have been so easy to Use and turn Steve’s phone off, but Bucky found himself holding back laughter as Darcy tried to extricate herself from his boyfriend’s arms. When the shock of Darcy’s hair lifted and looked over at him, he gave Darcy a lazy smile, lifting a hand and waving in her direction.

“This is not acceptable. Your face is unacceptable. No cookies for you, James Barnes,” Darcy grumbled, loud enough so she knew his smirky, well-rested face could hear. This was _his_ boyfriend wrapped around her, after all, and he needed to help, not just lay there like unoccupied France and laugh at her. “Make it stop, Jamie. How do you breathe? What even is this? Dorm beds are not made for this fuckery. Jamie. The Noise. Make it stop. Steve. _Steveeeeeee_.”

His brain finally giving in to the insistent noises, Steve blinked his eyes open, squinting as he pulled back. His expression turned to one of shock when he realized the body he was wrapped around, and whose dark hair was practically in his nose, was _not_ his boyfriend, but Darcy. “Oh. _Oh!_ ”

Bucky hid his face in his pillow, shoulders shaking as he laughed. Last night he’d looked down on Steve and Darcy sleeping side by side and had felt warmth light into his chest, glad the two of them had found some rest because he knew it’d been a little bit since that had happened. Now, though, he could appreciate the awkwardness as the comedic gold it was. He couldn’t wait to tell Sam and Clint. “You’re going to be late for class, Steve.”

“Oh, now you’re helpful, you asshat? What time is it?” Darcy scowled as she shoved her hair into some semblance of _not in her face_ , and demanded Steve’s chirping phone with her other hand.

Steve grunted as he handed his phone to Darcy, brain trying to make sense of Darcy being _here_ , and Bucky being _there_ , and sleep... what? He could hear Bucky chortling like the well rested asshole he was from his bed where Steve thought he’d finally fallen asleep. “Wha-? I don’t - time?” Steve mumbled, stretching and scratching idly at his chest.

Glad when she didn’t find some not-safe-for-work picture of Steve or Bucky naked - _again_ \- Darcy brought the phone extremely close to her face so she could see, and deftly navigated to his alarm app and turned off the annoying as hell alarm. When she was done, she flopped back against the bed, pulling down the hem of the t-shirt she’d borrowed so she wasn’t flashing as much skin. “Yes, Steve, time. Time is a thing,” she groused, looking to her right, eyes lighting as she took in his rumpled and sleep-tousled hair. “I didn’t think you had a class this early.”

“Steve likes to get there early and help his teacher set up,” Bucky offered, flashing Darcy a large smirk when she looked over at him.

“Of course he does.” Darcy’s lips quirked up at the trumpet of offense Steve made.

“Shhh. Pretty people don’t talk,” Steve said into his hands, trying to wake up. “Why is there no coffee. No class, only sleep.” He blushed when he realised that his shirt was tucked up all funny and his pants were way too low. Granted, Darcy had slept between them at Halloween, but this was different. This was everyday, and the dorm, and morning.

“Well, _this_ pretty person needs to get home so she can brush these sweaters off her teeth.”

“Steve didn’t offer you _his_ toothbrush? Wait ‘til I tell Ma. She’s gonna be _very_ disappointed.” The look of matching disgust on both Steve and Darcy’s faces sent Bucky into giggles.

It was no wonder her and Steve had been so close in the twin-sized bed, not with the way he’d filled out in the past few months. “What do you see in him again?” Darcy asked Steve, scooting until she could drape her legs over the side of the bed. Shaking her head, Darcy reached for her clothes, slipping on her glasses.

“There’s this thing he does with his mouth -”

“ _Hey_!”

“It certainly isn’t the noise coming out of it -”

“ _I’m an innocent party here!_ ”

“David Bowie, give me strength and good hair. Bah, I’ll see you both later,” Darcy threw over her shoulder as she grabbed her bag and shoved her feet into her shoes. She was mostly dressed, enough to be able to get back across campus and into her own clothes, at least. She’d get Steve’s back to him the next time she saw him. Or something.

Bucky flopped back on his bed, hand falling down in a wave as Darcy flew out the door. He was still grinning as he turned his head to look at a befuddled Steve.

“So, that thing I do with my mouth, huh?”

“Shut up and let me snuggle you, Barnes.”

*~*~*~*~*

Darcy paid no attention to the looks she got as she made her way down the hall. She didn’t owe any of the people looking in her direction an answer, and she refused to let them make her feel self-conscious. This wasn’t the first time she’d left a boy’s room in the morning carrying her outfit from the night before, and she was of the firm mind that there was no real shame in someone getting what they wanted.

Not that she’d gotten anything but sleep in Steve and Bucky’s room. But it’d have been fine if she had. Ticking her chin a bit higher, Darcy pushed through the doors, eyes widening when she realized that a t-shirt and a pair of boxers didn’t really do much against the chill of a November morning.

Welp, this was a choice she had made. She’d just have to walk quickly. 

And swear.

_A lot._

*~*~*~*~*

Interesting.

Fucking godammed cold, but interesting.

Chase sipped his coffee as he turned from the coffee cart, watching as the supposedly illustrious Darcy Lewis shivered and swore her way across the quad. It was obvious she’d come from somewhere other than her own dorm room. He’d waited for her there before realizing that she hadn’t made it home the night before. It didn’t take him long to figure out where she’d be.

As he watched her, he couldn’t help but wonder what all the fuss was about. What was it about her that so many of these boys were just _fascinated_? His lips curled when she glanced in his direction. Caught, Chase tipped his cup to her as she did a double-take, fizzling out before she could look too closely.

Darcy’s steps slowed as she tried to get a second glance at the person she’d just seen at one of the coffee carts that dotted the campus. She growled when a group of students crossed in front of her, blinking quickly when they passed. She could have _sworn_ she’d seen… but it wasn’t possible, unless Bucky had super powers. She’d left him and Steve in bed, and neither of them looked like they’d be up and moving for a bit, definitely not enough time to beat her _and_ get a coffee, too.

Frowning, Darcy waved at a group of girls who were headed toward her, shoes hanging from their hands as they barefooted it. “Ladies,” she said with a smile, nodding her head in greeting.


	3. Impending Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Thanksgiving break grows closer, Darcy is ~~coerced~~ convinced to join the boys with their families for the holiday. Chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, you guys spoil us so much with the kudos and comments. We are two very lucky word organizers.  
> <3<3<3  
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**Sam:** _Thanksgiving is at Mama Wilson’s this year. Be there, or I will leave you no biscuits_  
**Clint:** _Harsh, man. Those things are better than lembas bread_  
**Steve:** _you’re not kidding._  
**Darcy:** _hope you guys have fun_  
**Sam:** _oh - that means you, too_  
**Sam:** _the moms convened, and Mama Wilson and Mrs. Barton are PISSED they did not get to meet you_  
**Bucky:** _You said something about just staying on campus._  
**Bucky:** _You do not understand the glory that is Ma Barnes cranberry sauce_  
**Bucky:** _or Mrs. Barton’s green bean casserole_  
**Darcy:** _you hate green beans_  
**Bucky:** _My point_  
**Steve:** _My ma makes my dad’s stuffing recipe_  
**Steve:** _and we yell things at the sportsball!_  
**Steve:** _we’ve got plenty of room, and you’ll even get your own bathtub_  
**Clint:** _DARCY. YOU MUST BE THERE TO SAVE ME FROM THE EVIL AND VILE FUNGUS_  
**Clint:** _plus, Bucky’s dad always catches some kind of meat on fire_  
**Darcy:** _Offering the bathtub was a low move, Rogers. How can I say no to that?_  
**Clint:** _YES_  
**Sam:** _My mom is going to be so excited_  
**Darcy:** _You’re all ridiculous_  
**Darcy:** _But thank you._  
**Darcy:** _And hey! It’ll give us time to work on the final for History!_  
**Clint:** _NO_  
**Clint:** _THIS WENT SO WRONG_

Bucky leaned back against his truck, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he waited. The ground was littered with gold and red leaves, soggy after Hartford’s first major snowfall of the season. The air was crisp, the wind brisk, and he hunkered down a bit more in his sweater. He smiled when Steve emerged from the dorm, a bright pink gym bag slung over his shoulder. Darcy followed behind him, phone to her ear, hair threatening to break free from the beanie hat she’d pulled over the wild strands.

“Yes, Mom. I know. It’s fine, really. Jamie and Steve’s moms said they are more than happy to... Yeah, they got… Tell Dad he best be practicing because come Christmas, I’m going to kick his ass. Tell him to stop laughing, I can hear him. I know,” she waved at Bucky, face lighting with a smile, “I love you too, Mom. You guys have fun! Send me pictures. Okay. Okay. _Okay_. Love you more. Bye.”

“Parents flight take off okay?” Bucky asked, reaching for the rolling suitcase she was navigating on the sidewalk. 

“Yep,” Darcy said with a nod, sighing when Bucky grabbed her suitcase, but knowing no amount of complaining would stop him from being his chivalrous self, “they should get to Michigan and check in sometime tonight.” 

A conference in Ann Arbor wasn’t her dad’s ideal Thanksgiving, but getting a certification meant he was one step closer to being a manger, and as he’d been working toward it for _years_ , it seemed wrong to worry about missing some turkey. “Oh,” Darcy said with an eyebrow raised, “apparently they sent your parents a tin of cookies?” She wasn’t sure whose parents had reached out to whom, but somehow they’d all connected.

It was only mildly concerning.

“I’ll be surprised if they’re still around when we get there,” Steve said, tossing Darcy’s pink bag in the back and grabbing her suitcase from Bucky. He laid them down in the bed with his and Bucky’s bags and covered them all with a tarp. “Clint tends to inhale cookies.”

“If not, we can always make more. I have the recipes memorized,” she said, smiling at Steve as he opened the door for her. She slid across the leather bench seat, dropping her purse at her feet as Steve climbed up next to her in the cab. Making sure everything in the back was secured, Bucky joined them, turning the key and hearing the truck roar to life. 

“Are you ready for this?” Bucky asked, looking over at Darcy with raised eyebrows, a small glint of mischievousness in his eyes. “All of our families in one place?”

“You mean I can turn back? Yes! I choose freedom!” Darcy mimed diving for the door, but Steve shifted beside her, holding her in place with an arm over her chest.

“Nope,” Steve answered, leaning over to click her seatbelt in place, looking up at her with a wry grin, “no escaping us now.”

Darcy enjoyed the glint in Steve’s eyes, returning his bright expression. In the past few weeks, the boys had done everything to keep a smile on her face, and Darcy couldn’t find a reason to fight the lighter mood that had settled over her. She was done wallowing, and despite not being able to keep her dreams from turning dark, she felt more like herself than she had since Halloween. “So, what should I expect? I mean, _beside_ general chaos.” 

“Everyone is nice, I promise,” Bucky assured Darcy as he pulled out into traffic. “I’ll pick Bekah up tonight from the airport and then everyone will head over to Mama Wilson’s tomorrow around ten for a light snack -” 

“Light snack is an euphemism, it’s easier to just move food around your plate,” Steve interjected.

“- then football for those who watch it. Or board games. Generally, we just try staying out of the moms’ way. Then, on actual Thanksgiving, we have the _big_ meal,” Bucky finished. 

Darcy nodded, committing it all to memory. She tried not to feel overwhelmed, especially since she’d already met so many of them, and her stomach flipped with nervous excitement. “Is there a Papa Wilson?”

“Yep. He’s pretty quiet until the game comes on. He has Feelings about the Patriots. My dad will be there, and so will Sam’s sister and her kids, and Clint’s mom and dad and older brother,” Bucky answered, laying on the horn at a car stopped in the middle of the intersection with a flashing yellow. 

That was a _lot_ of people, and Darcy couldn’t help worrying that she wouldn’t get all the names or family lines right. She’d never really heard Steve talk about his dad, and she was almost certain she knew the answer already, but she wanted confirmation before she did or said something embarrassing. She turned to look at Steve, biting her lip softly. “This is probably really obvious, but…”

“My dad?” Steve asked, watching as she gave him a nod. “He died when I was fifteen in a car accident. He was coming home late one night and hit black ice,” Steve replied softly. He gave Darcy a small smile when she reached out to squeeze his knee, a tenderness in her eyes as she looked at him. “I miss him. A lot.”

She couldn’t imagine losing one of her parents, and her heart broke for both Steve _and_ his mother. “I’m so sorry, Steve.”

“Yeah.” Steve took a deep breath, pushing away the dark memories. Losing his dad… it’d colored him in ways he hadn’t expected, and it was still hard for him to talk about. Darcy wasn’t looking for more explanation, and her hand was warm on his knee. He shook his head, clearing it of the shadows, choosing instead to focus on the here and now. They were headed home, to make good memories. All three of them. Together. “Anyway, you’re still staying with me?”

Darcy nodded, happy to change the topic if it meant seeing the pain fade from Steve’s pretty blue eyes. ”I’ve been texting with your mom. She asked me to choose between the green or blue room?”

“What? You’re... I mean, you’re texting with Ma now?” Steve’s eyes widened, looking over at Bucky with an incredulous expression. Even as his body thrummed with disbelief, he knew that it was _just like_ his Ma to get the phone number, text, and make plans with someone she’d only met once before. 

“The blue room. It’s better because the sun doesn’t come right into your eyes in the morning,” Bucky answered Darcy, one side of his mouth curling in amusement. He enjoyed the light panic in Steve’s eyes at the thought of his Ma texting with Darcy, and he gave his boyfriend a shit-eating smirk.

Steve shook his head, eyes narrowing in Darcy’s direction. “Can we go back to how you’re texting with my Ma?”

Darcy leaned back against the seat. “It’s okay, I talk to Jamie’s mom, too.” 

“What? _Why_?”

Darcy laughed when Bucky’s head jerked and swung in her direction. She kept her attention on the road in front of them, a smirk curling her lips as she gave a soft shrug of her shoulder. “She asked for my number and I gave it to her. She’s kept in touch. It’s not a big deal.”

Bucky’s sounds of surprise were heartfelt. “Not a… you hear that, punk? It’s not a big deal!”

“Yeah, I heard her, Buck. Sounds like she’s making trouble.” Steve reached out, fingers digging into Darcy’s side, the place he’d learned that made her gasp out and giggle. 

“Steve! Stop!” Darcy shouted, trying to shrink away from Steve and his fingers. She slapped at his hands, laughing breathlessly before throwing a desperate look over her shoulder at Bucky. “Jamie! Help! Please!”

Bucky glanced over at Steve and Darcy, the grin on his face wide and showing teeth. “Little busy driving, doll, but I can try,” he said as they came to a red light. He enjoyed the yelp when he pressed fingers into her ribs from the other side, watching her throw her head back in gasping laughter. 

She ended up sprawled haphazardly on top of Steve, her seatbelt the only thing keeping her from being in his lap. Darcy’s shoulders shook with giggles, her cheeks flushed with pink. They’d been so careful, making sure she’d been safe the past few weeks, but Bucky’d missed just being with her and making her laugh. She did it with her whole body, toes to tips, and he’d _missed_ it.

“Stop! Stop or I’m gonna pee!” Steve stopped tickling Darcy, just holding her in place as her laughter subsided. When she’d caught her breath, she shook her head at the two of them. “I’m already regretting going with you guys.” She rose an eyebrow when Steve pushed a bit of hair out of her eyes.

“We’re not,” Steve said earnestly, blinking down at her.

“Such a _sap_ ,” Darcy said with a soft roll of her eyes, though her cheeks heated anew with something other than laughter. “I’m going to eat all of the biscuits, the moms will love me, and I will rule in glory,” she announced smugly, reaching up to pat Steve’s cheek with her hand. She righted herself, settling back between the boys. “I think this is gonna be really fun.”

_Darcy shifted from her side to her back, letting out a sigh as she stared up at the ceiling. She'd been trying to get to sleep for hours, but rest was elusive, sifting through her fingers like sand, too small to grasp. There was a full moon outside, the silver light filtering through the blinds on her windows. It was too cold to have the window open, but the curtains to the left of her head ruffled in the sweet, summer-scented night air._

_The smell of jasmine was in her lungs, cloying and thick, and her head ached for fresh oxygen. It was familiar - the perfume her Mom's mother had worn every day until she'd passed - and Darcy wondered where someone could have gotten something that had been discontinued so long ago._

_She'd helped her Mom go through Grandma Jean's things, that thick cloud of jasmine coating everything, and they wondered if Goodwill would even take something stained with that much perfume. In the end they'd dropped it off in bags and decided to let them sort it out. The only thing Darcy's mother had kept were a few pieces of jewelry and a hand-sewn quilt that she draped over the end of the bed in their guest room._

_Every time Darcy'd walked by that room, the thick odor of Grandma Jean's jasmine wafted from inside._

_Darcy shouted when her eyes were blinded by the sun, lifting an arm to protect them from the brightness. She looked around in confusion, the gentle lapping of the lake beneath the dock both soothing and ominous to her ears. She turned her head when she felt a tug on her hand, blinking hard at the little girl with dark hair and large eyes that were so familiar. "What's going on?" she asked the girl, watching as her pink lips turned upward in a smile._

_"I don't know how to swim," the girl answered, looking out at the water._

_It was so calm, a soft breeze slipping her hair around her shoulders, and Darcy couldn't remember such a perfect, summer day. The sun was warm on her face, almost too warm, and she wiped the back of her free hand across her brow. "I don't remember this place."_

_"Does it matter? You'll be dead soon, anyway."_

_The words were spoken so matter-of-factly, with a confidence that didn't match the girl's outward appearance, and Darcy looked down at her with surprise in her eyes. "Who are you?"_

_"Do you believe in fate?"_

_Where she'd been too warm before, Darcy now found herself freezing. The perfect summer day had changed to winter in an instant. She watched the cold spread over the water, hearing the ice crack and reach out until it covered the entirety of the lake. Her teeth chattered loudly in her head, and Darcy gripped the little girl's hand harder. "What did I do wrong?"_

_"You shouldn't trust people so easy."_

_Darcy wrenched her hand free, Grant Ward's voice creeping up her spine like an icy vine. She looked at him, that charming smile on his face, the one that hid all his ugliness, and it took everything she had not to turn and run away from him._

_A splash in the lake froze her heart and Darcy turned to see the little girl disappear into the dark, freezing water. Darcy dove after her immediately, somehow knowing that if the little girl died, it would be her dying, too. The girl sank like a stone. Even as Darcy swam for her life, the need for air burning in her lungs, she knew the girl was too far away. The girl's too-familiar eyes were wide and imploring, hands reaching, mouth open and screaming. Darcy felt the girl’s air bubbles floating up toward her._

_She swam as fast as she could, trying to grab the girl’s arm, her shirt, a wave of that dark, auburn hair... but it was no use. Even if Darcy reached her now, they'd never make it back to the surface with enough time. The thought '_ don't let her die alone _' floated along with those air bubbles and Darcy continued her downward dive. Even so, the girl was slipping further and further away, her eyes and panic-stricken face fading away and growing blurrier by the second. When she slipped from sight, lost in the dark water, Darcy took a deep breath inward, gasping._

_The curtains were still ruffling next to her head, that overwhelming scent of jasmine in her lungs. Darcy could feel a weight on her chest, heavy and immovable, and she blinked up to see the little girl sitting on her. Her skin was mottled green and gray and bloated, like she'd been stuck in that water for days, until the gasses in her body had brought her to the surface. Darcy tried to scream, she tried to move, but she was paralyzed._

_She could do nothing but look up into the eyes of the girl, realizing with a start that they were_ her _eyes. When Darcy was_ finally _able to open her mouth to scream, she was cut off when the younger version of herself spewed a stream of lake water._

_The scent of jasmine was replaced with the stench of stale water and decaying plants. She tried to breathe, but all Darcy could manage was to swallow more of the putrid liquid as it was vomited onto her face. Her chest seized with the need for air but the torrent was unending. As everything began to grow dark, shadows tunneling at the edges of her vision, Darcy wondered how she'd failed to save herself._

Darcy sat up in bed, hands clawing at her neck, trying to push past the ghost feelings of kelp and lake plants that had filled her mouth. She took a look around, not recognizing the room, heart racing as she tried to remember where she was. 

Slowly, she remembered she was in a bedroom at Steve's home. Darcy took in large, deep lungfuls of air, trying to hold on to the dream had left her so frightened. She glanced at the fire in the grate, seeing it was as large as she remembered, the clock showing only fifteen minutes had passed since the last time she'd checked.

She was exhausted. She jumped when one of the logs in the fire popped. Darcy pressed a hand to her chest, shaking her head at herself. Sleep had been right there, in her grasp, but she'd lost it. Yet again, insomnia was keeping her from getting any rest and her mind was hyper aware of her surroundings. Not a good combination. Giving it another twenty minutes, Darcy finally decided it wasn't worth it any longer and that she needed to just give in. She slipped from the bed, running hands up and down her cold and goosebumped arms, before tiptoeing out of the room.

Darcy made her way down the halls of the Rogers’ home, surprised she’d remembered enough to walk the labyrinth-like floor with some sense of direction. Even with the fire, the _actual_ fire in the _actual_ fireplace with real wood and everything, she was chilled and wanted hot chocolate. Ma - Sarah Rogers had _insisted_ that Darcy call her Ma - had shown Darcy where the drink making supplies were in the kitchen, with a small smile and twinkle in her eye, before heading up to bed.

The kitchen tiles were warm under her socked feet and Darcy absently wondered if they had heated floors. With the size of the house, it was entirely possible. As she made her way toward the open doorway, she was surprised to see a light still on. She entered the kitchen proper, happily hit by the delicious scent of chocolate.

“Hey, insomnia buddy,” Steve said from the table as Darcy entered the kitchen. She was wearing a pair of boxers with hearts on them and a faded D.A.R.E. t-shirt. He smiled, recognizing the sleeplessness on her face, knowing he was sporting one similar. He held a stoneware mug between his hands, hair all over the place from trying to sleep, and was wearing one of Bucky’s shirts in an effort to find rest. It hadn’t worked, and he’d resorted to a cup of something warm, hoping it’d do the trick.

“Thought you’d sleep better, being home and all,” Darcy murmured as she plopped down next to Steve, leaning against his shoulder. She stole his mug and took a long sip, eyebrows raising over the rim. “What’s up?”

He shrugged softly, not sure why sleep had eluded him. He’d hoped things would get better after his Ascension, but it appeared he’d been wrong. “Just excited, I guess. Seeing Bekah and everyone. I love Thanksgiving.” She seemed to take his answer as good enough and pushed the mug back toward him. “What about you?”

Darcy mirrored his shrug with one of her own, reaching up to scratch distractedly at her neck, still trying to get the scent of jasmine out of her nose. “Weird house noises, I guess.”

“Weird? How?” Steve grabbed the mug and brought it to his lips.

“ _Not-my-house_ noises, you know?” It was as good an answer as any, as Darcy had trouble nailing down why, exactly, she couldn’t find sleep or rest when she wanted it. “I always sleep weird the first night in a new place. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

Steve didn’t like the look of uncertainty in her eyes. “You sure? I’m just down the hall.”

Darcy snorted with laughter, giving him an incredulous expression. “You mean in your _wing_?” The Rogers’ homestead was not a home, not a house, but an honest to god _estate_. Darcy was suitably impressed. How was Sarah the only one bumming around this house while Steve was at school? She wondered if Sarah felt lonely, frowning lightly at the thought.

“Whatever,” Steve said with a smile, “I’m a good snuggler, if you think that’d help.”

A lazy smile curled onto her lips, knowing from personal experience that he wasn’t lying. “Ain’t that the truth. Steve the snuggler, that’s what they should call you. You have a fireplace in your room, too?” Darcy asked, stealing the mug and finishing what was left in it.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. We can leave yours, it’ll be fine ‘til morning. Come on.” Steve stood, offering her his hand. She climbed to her feet with this help, taking the mug to the sink and rinsing it out. Darcy crossed back to him, tucking herself into his side as he led them out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and to a door down the hall from hers..

Steve’s room was mostly dark, lit only by a dimmed lamp next to his bed and the orange light from the fire that was still crackling in the hearth. The bed was messy and it was obvious sleeping hadn’t gone well for Steve, either. Darcy looked over at him, taking in the state of the room and the tired look on his face. “When was the last time you actually slept? Like _slept_ slept?”

Steve began dragging things off the bed, throwing them onto the floor to make enough room for the both of them. “I don’t know. I usually get a few hours a night.”

Darcy frowned, unable to help the concern in her tone. “You realize that’s not good, right?”

Steve looked over his shoulder at her, raising a single, blond eyebrow. “Says the woman who went thirty-six hours on only Red Bull and orange Starbursts?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Darcy supposed he had a point. Letting the topic drop, she took a leap, flopping onto his bed. She laughed as she bounced more than she thought she would, his mattress obviously better than the one she’d gotten used to in the dorm. 

“ _Shhhhh!_ Don’t you know people are trying to sleep here?” Steve mock scolded her. He climbed in bed, pulled the covers down next to him, and patted the empty space at his left. “C’mere.”

Darcy scooted her way into Steve’s side, slipping her legs beneath the blankets. After a bit of shifting, she laid back against the mattress, curling one hand on his chest and taking a deep breath inward. She could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, and he smelled like the chocolate he’d been drinking, and also woodsmoke. She sighed when he pulled the covers over them, tucking in the side, just like she liked it. She thought that maybe it should bother her - or _Jamie_ \- that Steve knew how she liked to sleep, but pushed the thought aside as her eyes closed and she grew warmer.

“‘Night, Steve.”

“‘Night, Darcy.”

Sarah Rogers woke early most mornings, enjoying the first cup of tea as the sun rose, looking over the backyard from the kitchen windows, frost shining on the wet grass. Her day was busy; she had errands to run, and things to pick up from the store for Thanksgiving. She had a shift at the hospital later, but Sarah wanted to spend time with her boy before she left. Maybe she’d convince Darcy to join them, maybe drag them both to grab some lunch.

She hated how quiet the house had been ever since Steve had left for school. She’d gotten used to the way he, the boys, and Bekah would run around, leaving the sounds of _life_ in their wake. She didn’t like the stark reminder that she was the only one in the Rogers’ ancestral home now, but remembering that her son was upstairs made Sarah smile in the brightening light of the morning. She climbed the stairs, wondering if Darcy was an early riser like her. 

“Darcy dear? You awake?” Sarah knocked lightly on the door. It was opened the slightest bit, just enough for her to stick her head in. The room was darker, softly glowing embers the only thing left of the fire in the grate. She could make out the rumpled sheets on the bed, but it was empty. Frowning, Sarah pulled the door closed. 

Not imagining Steve was up and moving yet - who knew when he woke up now, what with classes and studying - she knocked on his door. “Steve? Honey?” When she didn’t hear any movement from inside, she started to wonder if the pair of them had already left. It wasn’t like Steve to leave without letting her know his plans, though, so she turned the handle and peeked her head into the brightly lit room.

She was surprised to find Steve in his bed, curled around Darcy. He was flush against Darcy’s back, one arm stretched above their heads, his other wrapped around her middle. Her son’s face was lost in the darkness of her curls. The covers were a tangled mess over their twined legs, and she heard the deep, restful push of air as they were both dead to the world. Sarah’s face curled up in a grin as she backed out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. They needed the sleep; between school work and Steve Ascending, she knew neither of them were getting enough.

Sarah made her way back to the kitchen and set about making her second cup of tea for the morning. She picked up the phone, dialing the number without looking. It rang once before it was answered. She skipped the pleasantries and got right to the reason for the call. “You owe me fifty dollars and a pedicure, Winifred. You’ll never guess what I saw this morning....”


	4. Perfect Pandemonium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is convinced to join the boys and their families over Thanksgiving break. She meets Bucky’s twin sister, Bekah, and gets a crash course in the art of navigating chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We took a break for the holidays, but we're baaaaacckk! :D  
> Thank you _so much_ for all the comments and kudos and OMG you guys are just fucking amazing, you know that, right?  
> That you, yes _you_ , are a MFing rock star? It's true. We'd never lie to you.  
> <3  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

Rising onto his tiptoes, Bucky tried to see over the sea of people pouring out of the gate. He glanced up at the overhead board, checking again that his sister’s plane had arrived on time and that it hadn’t changed where she’d be arriving. He was completely unsurprised when he could _hear_ his sister before he saw her.

“No, I wouldn’t go 84 and over, I’d go north on 91 then take 9 east and you’ll hit Concord. That way you avoid all the traffic.”

Bekah was wearing a pair of leggings that looked well worn and soft, a tank top with a giant lizard on the front, and sunglasses hiding her eyes. Bucky shook his head, hoping she’d packed a coat in her suitcase as it was more than a little chilly outside. “You’re going to catch your death, Bekah Barnes,” he called, lips slanting when her eyes finally landed on him.

Waving goodbye to her seatmate, Bekah hitched her carry-on further up her shoulder. Her lips turned down when she spotted the piece of paper Bucky held in his hands, a look of success in his eyes. “‘ _The Cold-Blooded Barnes_ ’? Really?”

“Is it true, or is it true?”

“You’re an ass,” Bekah said with a roll of her eyes, slipping her sunglasses to the top of her head before she wrapped both of her arms around Bucky’s neck and squeezed him tight. “ _Ugh_ , I missed you, you jerk.”

Bucky laughed from somewhere in Bekah’s hair, practically able to _smell_ the sunshine she’d left behind. “Well if you came home more often…”

“Hey,” Bekah said as she pulled back with a frown, “ _you’re_ the one who decided to stay in this frigid hellscape. You made your ice-cold bed, you have to lie in it. Those are the rules.”

The smirk on Bekah’s lips was familiar, and wistful, and _damn_ had Bucky missed his sister. He pulled her into another hug, glad when she didn’t try to fight it. He held tight until they were forced to move by the pack of people shuffling outside. He glanced toward baggage claim then turned back to Bekah with an eyebrow raised. “Bags?”

“Nope, I shoved it all in here,” she said, patting her carry-on, “besides, we’ll mostly be wearing pajamas anyway.”

“Please tell me you packed your own and don’t need to borrow any of mine. They always seem to go missing.”

“I never say I want to _borrow_ them, I just say I _need_ them. There’s never been any hint of a return policy. But _yes_ ,” Bekah grinned, “I packed my own. Now let’s do this thing. Did you get me a limo for my grand entrance?”

“I don’t cater to your every whim, regardless of what you might think. I’ve got the truck parked in the loading zone.”

“I thought you were supposed to be _in_ the car for that to work.”

“Shows what you know,” Bucky said while he reached out to grab her bag. It was absolutely in character when Bekah wrenched her bag free, and a smirk graced his lips when his twin turned toward him with a glare.

“I can carry my own damn bag, Jimmy.”

“Yes. Sorry. I’ll try to be less chivalrous from now on.”

“Good.” 

As they made their way into the cold, Bucky couldn’t help but laugh when Bekah swore heavily, hair sliding across her shoulders as a chilly breeze swept through the waiting crowd. As Bekah had made it clear she didn’t care for his polite moves, he let her open her own door, circling his truck and sliding behind the wheel.

“Could you -” Bekah grinned happily when the interior of the truck heated by a good fifteen degrees. “I don’t know how you do this every year.”

“Winter is a thing, sister-mine, and it happens everywhere.” Bucky leaned forward, attempting to look around an airport shuttle as he navigated into traffic. “Even in California.”

“Yeah, well, California’s winter is still in the mid-60s. Now if it was like that here…”

“You’d still have gone somewhere else,” Bucky said with a wry grin, glancing over at his sister as she settled back in her seat. “You weren’t made to stay in Connecticut. You’ve got those wandering eyes.”

At his comment, Bekah turned in her seat, giving him an expectant expression. “ _Speaking_ of wandering eyes, I’ve been informed that yours might have -”

“Don’t you start with your meddling. And go easy on Steve.”

“When have I ever -”

“Bekah.” His twin at least appeared to look guilty as she held up her hands in a placating manner. “The last thing I need is you making Steve feel awkward or intimidate Darcy right off the bat. She’s not used to the whole clan get-togethers and I’d like to _not_ scare her off. You remember that time Clint brought -”

“We don’t talk about the Black Holiday. We all signed an agreement, remember?”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky merged onto the highway. “I’m just saying, don’t smother.”

“No smothering. Got it.”

“Don’t make sex jokes at the dinner table.”

Bekah sighed dramatically. “As if I’m the _only_ one that does that.”

“And no embarrassing stories.”

Her steel-grey eyes flicked toward her brother, her expression one of disbelief. “Now you’ve going too far. I can only promise so much…”

_Chaos_.

Thanksgiving at the Wilson home was nothing short of utter and absolute _chaos_.

Darcy’s family was small; just her, her parents, and Aunt Gayle. Large family gatherings were a whole new animal. Seconds after she’d stepped over the threshold of the Wilson’s home, Darcy was immediately drawn into a hug by a statuesque woman with dark skin, who shared Sam’s easy smile and warm eyes. Her soft Virginia accent got rid of the last bit of nerves Darcy had felt fluttering in her stomach, the familiarity calming her, making it feel a bit more like home. 

“I’ll just send you over to where the boys are hiding and have them give you the tour, hmm? You just make yourself at home now.”

“Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Wilson,” Darcy started, slipping out of her shoes. She shrugged out of her jacket and hung it on the already heavily-laden coat tree next to the front door. There were raised voices from the kitchen, the welcoming sound of laughter wafting from rooms further in the home.

“Oh, come now, I’ll have none of that ‘Mrs. Wilson’ nonsense. It’s Mama Wilson, just like all the rest of you kids,” Mama Wilson said, wrapping her arm in Darcy's and pulling her toward a doorway to the right. As they approached, Darcy felt the Wilson matriarch go stiff at her side. 

“I _know_ I do not see your feet on the table, Samuel,” Mama Wilson chastised from the opening of the living room, voice firm but warm.

“Of course not, Mama,” Sam answered with a hint of guilt, pulling his feet from the table with a hurried jerk. He straightened, jumping to his feet when he noticed his mother wasn’t alone. Sam crossed the floor and wrapped his arms around Darcy’s shoulders, pulling her away from his mother and squeezing her tightly. “Darce! You made it!” Pulling back, his dark eyes flicked over her shoulder expectantly. “Where’s Steve?”

“He’s helping Ma Rogers bring food in. I tried to help but got swatted away. She really is a tiny ball of Irish fury, isn’t she?” Darcy asked, grinning against his neck. 

“You haven’t seen the half of it,” Sam said, keeping his arm stretched across her shoulders, the pose comfortable, his eyes warm. “Or, maybe you have. At the party with James' mom. That was in polite society, though, so they couldn’t get sloshed. Just wait until they’re four glasses into the wine.”

Darcy’s face showed an appropriate amount of fear at the thought, turning when Mama Wilson shouted a greeting at the front door then wrapped her arms around a newly-arrived Steve. “Look at you!” Mama Wilson gripped one of his biceps and squeezed, letting out an appreciative chuckle. 

Turning back to Sam, a small smile grew on Darcy’s face. “I saw some pictures on the walls at Steve’s place. He _really_ hit a growth spurt this year, huh?”

“Better late than never, amirite?” came a voice at her ear. Darcy laughed when Clint threw his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her cheek and dropping cookie crumbs _everywhere_.

“Mama’s gonna to kill you if she sees you dug into the cookies already,” Sam whispered out of the side of his mouth, hoping his mother didn’t look their way. 

“Then she shouldn’t have left them in a nondescript container, in the pantry on the highest shelf, hidden behind the large jars of pickles,” Clint said matter-of-factly, a smirk turning his lips.

“ _Did I hear something about cookies_?!”

Clint’s eyes widened as Mama Wilson screeched, and he disappeared like magic, looking for a good place to hide.

“I swear, Jimmy, if Mama doesn’t let us have cookies because of Barton again this year, friend or not, I’ll wear his ribcage as a hat.”

“How is this _my_ fault, Bekah?”

“‘Cause you’re older and more responsible.”

“Only by ten minutes!”

“And you’ve never let me forget it. Where’s -” The dark-haired woman with deep red lips paused when her eyes swept the room, her gaze the same steel blue as Bucky’s. She focused on Darcy, her lips turning up at the corners. “That’s her, right? I mean, I assume, but I’m not sure.”

Bucky stepped up behind his sister, the smile on his face faltering slightly. Bekah had badgered him the entire car ride for information, showing no shame at how inappropriate her questions were, something she’d inherited from their mother. “What? Why?”

“Because _none_ of you boys did this pin-up justice. Honestly. Do you just tell people I look like you, only with boobs? For fuck’s sake. You lot need to work on your descriptions.” Turning away from her twin, Bekah took a step into the room, giving Darcy the girl-equivalent of Bucky’s charming smile. 

Laughing, Darcy stepped forward, enjoying the exasperated look that flashed in Bucky’s eyes. After all the stories from Steve and Bucky, she felt like she already knew the other Barton sibling. “Yeah, I’m Darcy. And you’re very obviously Bekah.”

Bekah’s head cocked to the side, one dark eyebrow raising. “Obvious in a good ‘glad the second one turned out prettier’ way, or obvious in a bad ‘she really does just look like Jimmy with boobs’ way?”

“Definitely the first.”

“Hey!”

Darcy ignored the cry of offense from Bucky, letting out a squeak of surprise when Bekah darted forward and pulled her into a hug. When Bekak pulled back, Darcy could see the same mischievous expression she saw so often on Bucky’s face. “Welcome to the Bedlam that is Thanksgiving.” 

Darcy laughed, somehow feeling like she’d known the other woman for longer than just thirty seconds; Bekah was like Jamie, only softer. She had the same lips and the same dark, pretty coloring. Steve hadn’t been kidding about them being alike. “I don’t know about the pin-up bu -”

“Nope, It’s a thing. Get a few victory curls in that hair and you’d be perfect. Whatever Jimmy’s told you about me, ignore it. We’ll have to talk later. I have so many stories you need to know.”

“Bekah, don’t you dare,” Steve warned, coming up behind the group, reaching out to thread his fingers with Bucky’s.

Bekah smiled, mouthing _’we’ll talk’_ toward Darcy before turning to pull Steve into a hug. “About time you made a move on this one, big brother,” she groused over Steve’s shoulder at Bucky. She kissed Steve on the cheek, smile bright as she looked at the two of them side by side. She sighed then, dramatically, before pulling a $50 bill from her pocket and holding it out toward Sam.

“What the hell?” Bucky said with a frown, looking between his sister and Sam.

“You better hope Mama doesn’t hear you curse in this house or she’ll make you do the dishes. Again,” Clint said from the door, an open tin of cookies in his hands. He held the tin out toward Bekah, bowing his head slightly. “Bex! I bring you offerings in the hopes that you tell Darcy about the time in high school -”

“Clint, no!” Rang out from the three other boys.

“ _Clint, yes_!” both Darcy and Bekah replied. They looked at each other with surprise for a second before they both cracked up. 

The boys all shared a look. 

_Maybe this was a bad idea…_

Darcy was sure she’d never been so full in all her life. If she wasn’t trying to make a good first impression, she’d have popped a few buttons on her pants ages ago. The kids - though none of them were really kids - had gathered in the den, lazing on couches while they digested.

“I feel like that blueberry chick from Willy Wonka,” Clint groaned from his spot on the floor, hand resting over his stomach.

“We can pop you if you want,” Bekah said, reaching out to poke Clint with her toe. He groused and rolled away from her. 

“It’s like this _every year_?” Darcy asked. The bodies strewn about the room all nodded, too full to form words or actual sentences. “And you love it every year?” Another round of nods. “Gluttons for punishment. The lot of you.”

“Oh, you haven’t even seen the least of if. You know what happens now?” Bekah said, turning her grin toward Darcy.

“Bex, no, not yet.”

“ _Yes_ , yet, Barton. You owe me a rematch from last year!”

“We warned you that you couldn’t hold Asia. No one can ever hold Asia.” Sam said with a shake of his head.

Darcy’s eyebrows rose at the small thread of friendly tension that seemed to have descended over the six of them. “Are we talking abou -”

“Risk. The game of world domination. Bekah always thinks she’ll win. She never does, and then we hear her bitch about it for the whole year.” Clint rolled his eyes dramatically, though the smile on his lips betrayed him.

“Have you ever played?” Bekah sat up straighter and looked at Darcy with hopeful eyes. She let out a squeal of delight when Darcy shook her head _no_ , moving quicker than anyone so full of yams should have been able to move. “Perfect! You can play on my team -”

“No teams!” Bucky shouted and was immediately talked over.

“- and we’ll take over the world and put these boys to shame. Come on, we’ll get it set up.”

Darcy cast wide eyes in Steve and Bucky’s direction, smile on her face, as Bekah took her hand and led her from the room.

“You knew this was going to happen, right? You knew. You had to have known. You’ll never get her back now,” Sam said, his head swinging to look at Bucky and Steve with chagrin. Bucky’s twin was a force of nature and watching her crash against Darcy was immeasurably amusing.

Clint grunted from the floor. “No nukes this year, guys. No matter what she says. Deal?”

“Deal.”

*

Three hours later, Darcy and Bekah had Bucky on the ropes. A well placed nuke had kicked Clint from the map, and all Bucky had left was New Guinea. He was surrounded, and he knew it. “Just roll the dice, baby man.”

“Bex, you’re adorable when you’re hungry for world domination,” Steve said, his voice heavy with amusement. Bekah stuck her tongue out in his direction before turning back to her brother, her focus resharpening. As the dice fell, it seemed like time itself held its breath. The silence was broken when Bekah jumped to her feet, screaming in victory.

“Ha! You _can_ hold Asia! Booyah!”

Sam snorted at the show, taking another drink of his beer. 

Darcy laughed when Bekah threw her arms around her shoulders, jumping up and down with joy. Bekah was scary competitive and Darcy almost felt bad for her brother. _Almost_. “Sorry, Jamie,” Darcy said, looking over Bekah’s shoulder toward the other Barton twin, “I promise I didn’t help.”

“Traitor,” Bucky grumbled, watching as his sister finally let go of Darcy and crossed to Clint, sticking her tongue out at the blond.

“Now, don’t be mad at _her_ , James,” Sam said, pushing off the wall, a smile on his lips, “be angry at the system that allowed such a tyrant to rise to power.”

Steve shook his head, laughing as he watched everyone’s antics. He’d missed Bekah, and texts and sporadic phone calls just weren’t enough. If he could just convince her to move home when she graduated, then their whole family could be together.

Darcy leaned onto the table, chin in hand, grinning mischievously at Bucky. “Let’s play another game. Your choice.”

“Not poker. Steve has the shittiest p-p-p-poker face.”

“Clinton,” Bekah said, a threat in her tone, “do _not_ ruin Gaga for me.”

Bucky cleared his throat, standing and gesturing grandly with his hard cider when everyone turned to look at him. “On this fattiest of holidays, in the year of our Lord twenty-eighteen, we will be partaking in the most mighty and noblest game of Spoons, you bitches.”

“Bring it on! I am King of Spoons!” Clint declared, pulling Bekah into his lap. He made a loud raspberry in her neck, ignoring the way she slapped at his face. “You will all bow before me in your puniness!”

“You wish, Linty,” Bekah squealed from her seat on Clint, eyes flashing with fiery excitement. “It’s on!”

*

Darcy actually _knew_ how to play spoons, having learned that and several other card games while on trips with the debate team, but she’d said nothing. She didn’t know everyone’s prowess, and she thought it best to use the element of surprise. With each winning hand she feigned luck, giving the group faux bewilderment as the right cards seemed to just appear in her hand. “You’re going easy on me,” she pouted, mock disappointment in her voice.

“No, he isn’t,” Sam said, looking over at Clint with an amused grin. He highly enjoyed watching his best friend grow more and more frustrated as the hands went on, his hair sticking up in all directions from where Clint had pulled at it. 

Clint’s gaze was cast down at the cards in his hands, glaring as if they’d personally offended him. “I don’t _get_ it.”

Darcy grinned, eyes flicking up to catch Sam’s eye, giving him a wink. She cleared her face of anything other than sympathy and looked back to the brooding blond. “We could make this interesting?” she offered, internally cheering when Clint looked up at her with interest.

“Go on...” Clint said, eyes narrowing slightly as he steepled his fingers in front of him.

“If you win, you can have all my cookies and Mama Wilson’s biscuits. If _I_ win, then I get all of yours.”

Steve hissed, leaning back in his chair with a shake of his head.

“Too rich for my blood,” Bucky said from his side of the table.

Everyone waited as Clint considered the offer, taking more time to consider it than it should have. Finally, he nodded, snapping his fingers in her direction, his normally jovial face turning sharper with focus. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Sam carefully placed five spoons on the table and shuffled the cards. They were obviously well worn, some bent back and dog-earred, while others appeared to have odd stains on them, probably from cheese puffs that Clint was enjoying in between hands. Sam dealt them carefully and with purpose.

“Why do you always deal?”

“Anyone tell you you have control issues, Girl Barnes? Besides,” Sam said, pausing to consider which card he was going to pass to Darcy, “it’s my house.”

No one had four of a kind in the first round, or the second. The third, however, had Bekah snatching a spoon and sticking it on her nose.

Darcy’s hand darted out, fingers wrapping around metal successfully. She brought the utensil to her mouth, blowing on it gently so it’d stay on her nose. The flurry of hands toward the middle of the table was frantic, and Steve cursed a stream of words Darcy had never heard strung together. She turned shocked eyes toward him, mouth hanging open in mock outrage. “ _Steve_! Kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Steve grinned at her, enjoying the pink tint in her cheeks. During their insomnia-riddled nights, up late and with almost no filter on his mouth, he’d been less than gentlemanly with his copious use of swears, much to both of their delights. “Where do you think I learned them?” he said with a grin. “Now imagine them with her accent. That’s my Ma.”

‘’S true. First time I said the word ‘fuck’ in front of Sarah Rogers, she gave me a ten minute lecture on how ‘shit’ would have been a better suited curse word in that particular situation.”

Steve looked over to Clint, amused surprise on his face. “How is this the first time I’m hearing this?”

“Because she made me swear not to tell anyone or she’d kick my ass. Your mom is terrifying.” Clint said, only exaggerating a little.

“‘ _Oh, you better believe I know what you’ve been out doin’, James my boy. You’ve best kept it wrapped up in that back seat. I don’t want to hear your mam callin’ me because Jenny Proctor’s all upset over you despoiling her son **and** daughter_,’” Bucky said, imitating Sarah Rogers’ accent perfectly. He shook his head, lips curling in a smile. “I never did figure out how she _knew_...”

“It’s even better when Ma Rogers goes into Irish,” Bekah said, looking critically at the cards in her hand before she passed to the left. 

Darcy’s eyebrows lifted. “What?”

“Ma grew up in Galway, so Irish Gaelic is her first language. When she really gets going, she slips into it,” Steve explained. “All Dad would ever say was ‘she’s a passionate woman’.”

“Yeah, I can honestly say I have no desire to _ever_ hear that. I’m planning on staying on your mom’s good side. Just remember, I will choose your mother’s side. Every time. So don’t tell me anything you wouldn’t want her to know because if she asks, I’ll - _ahhh_!” Darcy threw her four jacks down and grabbed a spoon. The air filled with the sounds of hurried screams, and this time it was Bekah who came up empty.

“Son of a _bitch_!” Bekah yelled, throwing her cards to the table.

Bucky snorted, laughing harder when she threw a middle finger in his direction. He smirked at his twin before turning to Darcy. “When do we get to return the favor and meet your folks? I mean, you could give me their number and I could reach out -”

“I know where you sleep, Jamie, and I will murder you and hide the body where no one would ever find it. And _then_ I’ll give your search history to your mother.”

“Can we get back to the game, please?”

Clint lost the next round.

And the next.

And the next, until he was just one “s” from losing.

There seemed to be a standoff happening. Steve looked back and forth between Clint and Darcy, unable to help the grin as they continued to just stare at each other. He was almost positive neither of them had blinked over the last three minutes, such was the intensity on their faces. His blue gaze flicked down to the cards in his hand, spreading them wider, seeing the quartet of nine cards. He glanced back up, taking a deep breath in.

Steve let his four nines fall to the table, hand darting, fingers wrapping around one of the utensils in the middle. He threw the first one at Darcy and then grabbed one for himself before anyone else could catch what had happened.

“All your biscuits are belong to me!” Darcy cried out, holding her spoon in the air triumphantly, watching as Clint’s face screwed tight in frustration and disappointment.

“ _Mother fucker_!”

The entire room erupted into laughter, Clint’s hands slapping at the table and the pile of cards. Darcy let him stew, watching as he looked around the room, as if planning each and every one of their murders. When he sat back in his chair, arms crossed and pouting, she made her way around the table and stood before him, holding her spoon out toward him. “I would never, _ever_ , come between you and food.”

Clint looked up at her through narrowed eyes, gauging her sincerity. After a few seconds, his blue eyes softened and a small grin turned his lips. “That’s because you’re smart.”

Darcy sighed loudly and turned, shrugging her shoulders. “Well, if you’re not going to appreciate it …” She squeaked when Clint pulled her into his lap and squeezed her hard, wheezing against the strength in his arms. “Love you, too,” she gasped, patting his arms lightly.

“I am a goddamned delicate Southern flower, James Barnes, and it is fucking cold outside. I’m going inside and sitting by the fire, drinking Schnapps in my cocoa and planning world domination with the only other person who makes any sense around here,” Darcy declared, laying her accent on extra thick, rubbing her hands up and down her jacketed arms.

“You must mean Ma, then, ‘cause it sure isn’t Bekah,” Bucky retorted, _eep_ ing when a ball of snow hit the back of his head and slid down his neck. He turned toward his sister, mouth opening in indignation. “Jesus, sis!”

Steve snorted from the other side of Darcy, using her as a shield as Bekah threw more snow his way. He rolled his eyes at himself when he realized that he was now _far too wide_ to hide behind anyone anymore. Just one more change he had to get used to now that he’d Ascended.

“Suck my ass, Jimmy. I’m the smart one that escaped Jotunheim.”

The quartet were all rosy cheeked and sweating in the snow. It was barely six inches, but it had snowed enough the previous night to allow for the production of snowballs, and Bucky had announced that it was time for them to get up and run around in the Rogers’ yard. The snow dusted over hedges and the manicured lawn, through the gardens and over Sarah’s award-winning roses. 

Darcy squealed when a handful of snow was pushed down her neck from behind. “ _Steven Rogers_!” she screeched. Steve managed to dart away from her slapping hands, and Darcy bent to grab a handful of snow to toss in his direction. A growl of betrayal passed her lips when she was hit from behind. On the ass. She spun, mouth dropping open, eyes widening at Bekah. “What in the ass?!”

Bekah attempted to look guilty, but failed miserably. “Uh, I was aiming for Steve?”

“Liar!”

“Get her!”

Darcy balled the snow in her hands and chucked it toward Bekah. Hers didn’t hit Bekah, not even close, but Bucky’s impacted his twin square in the stomach, exploding into icy dust. Bekah’s shout of “shit!” was loud and echoed off the trees, ringing through the yard. Darcy was doubled over laughing, cheeks flushed from the cold as she watched Bekah try to retaliate with a well placed slider in Bucky’s direction, completely unprepared when she was tackled from the side by Steve, falling to the soft, snow-covered ground. 

Bekah let out a primal scream, pushing Steve off of Darcy, attempting to push a handful of snow into his face. “She’s our guest, Stevie! Your mother will have your head!”

“He’s got plenty of head,” Bucky teased, falling when Darcy yanked at the leg of his jeans and pulled him to the ground. He landed on his face, laughing too hard to push himself up right away. He managed to make it to his side, hooting with delight at the disgusted noise his sister made.

Darcy pulled Steve back toward the ground, leaning heavily onto him as she climbed onto her knees and then to her feet. “Stay down, Rogers, or I’ll take off my belt!”

“Do it!”

“Mmmm, kinky.”

Bucky cackled at both Steve and Bekah’s comments, watching Darcy’s eyes widen, her cheeks somehow flushing even more beautifully.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what a bunch of noise you’re making!” All four faces turned toward the back door, Sarah’s voice carrying clearly on the calm winter air. A ball of white winged from her hand, flying true and hitting perfectly center on Darcy’s chest. The older woman whooped in victory.

Darcy wiped at the snow that had dusted up to her face as she blinked wide eyes at Steve’s mom. Sarah’s eyes sparkled with mirth, the blue so like Steve’s that it caught Darcy’s breath, and she gaped as the blonde’s shoulders shook with giggles. She watched Sarah pull out her phone and snap a few pictures before sliding it back into her pocket.

“Your mom hit me!” Darcy said, turning to look at Steve with shock on her face.

“Welp, that does it, you’re part of the family now,” he said with a wide grin, “when Ma is fine using violence on you, it means you’re in.”

Darcy looked down, brushing the rest of the snow off the front of her coat. “Well, that’ll be easier when I come for Sunday dinner, then.”

Steve turned to glare at his mother, but she was already smiling, pulling the door closed behind her. He looked back up toward Darcy, one eyebrow raising. “Is _that_ what you’ve been texting with her about?”

“Among other things,” Darcy answered with a smirk, the narrowing of his eyes making her chest warm with affection. “I also heard about your first kiss. _And_ your favorite boy band growing up.” 

Bekah fell back against the snow, laughing with her whole body as she watched the blood drain from Steve’s face. “She didn’t!”

Darcy grinned. _“Oh ho ho_ , you bet your sweet ass she did. I can’t wait to see the closet shrine to the Jonas Brothers. Who’s your favorite again?”

“Nick,” Bucky and Bekah chimed in unison, both of them laughing at the look of betrayal that flashed onto Steve’s face.

“I’m going inside, where at least abuse comes with bacon and cheddar scones and tea,” Steve pouted. He pushed himself up from the ground, dusting off what snow he could and stomping toward the back door.

Darcy shuffled after Steve. “Awwww, I’m just teasing,” she soothed, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and squeezing. “I know you don’t have a shrine to Nick Jonas in your closet upstairs.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sure it’s moved to your dorm room by now. How does Bucky like sharing your affections with a teenage heart throb?” His groan only made Darcy’s giggles raise in pitch.

“I know I said I was marrying that tub in the hotel, but I think I’m going to have to have a long term affair with this whole house,” Darcy murmured from where she was curled up with Bekah on the chaise next to the fire.

Well past dinner, well past Sarah wishing them goodnight before heading off to the hospital for a shift, Darcy, Bekah, Steve, and Bucky were lounging around the fire in Steve’s bedroom. Bekah had an early flight back to California, having already said goodbye to her parents, and had chosen to just stay awake until it was time for Bucky to take her to the airport. There wasn’t much point in sleeping when she’d just have to get up in a few hours, anyway. ‘ _I can just sleep on the plane_ ’, she’d argued, and no one had fought her point.

“Mmmm,” Steve agreed, soaking up the warmth from the flames, feeling full and happy and perfect. “I love being home.”

Darcy nodded, pulling a blanket tighter across her shoulders. “It’s close enough to campus, why don’t you just live here?” Bucky turned and gave Darcy A Look, and she laughed at the expression on his face. “Oh. Right. I suppose getting to live with your boyfriend is a pretty sweet arrangement.”

“Would _you_ want to live with your family if they were close enough?” Bucky asked, one dark eyebrow raising.

Darcy considered the question, dipping a nod of her head in Bucky’s direction. “Touché.”

“Besides, living on campus has it perks,” Steve hummed, eyes opening when he turned to smile at Darcy. “Depending on where you live, you can literally roll out of bed and get to class without being late. If we had to drive each day? No thanks.”

She couldn’t fault Steve’s logic. Darcy wiggled her toes and turned to the woman she shared the seat with, having stuck them under Bekah’s thigh for warmth. Though she felt like she’d known Bekah forever, she still have plenty of questions she wanted to ask the Barnes twin. “So you decided to go to California. Just wanted a change of space? Scenery? To learn surfing?”

“Lizards and snakes are awesome, and they live where it’s warm, like most reasonable, intelligent creatures,” Bekah replied, “and UCLA has a great herpetology department. I can’t surf to save my life, but I did get SCUBA certified last year. “

“No shit?”

“No shit. I’m hoping to get an internship in Costa Rica this summer, working with a lab in the wetlands down there.”

Darcy turned to Bucky, who had a now-dozing Steve leaning against his shoulder. “Why did you hide this remarkable and most amazing Barnes from me? I feel like I’ve traded up.”

Bekah grinned at the praise, turning to look at her brother with a smirk. “If you’re too stupid to keep her, I will.”

“Thank you so much for letting me stay here. It was... amazing.”

“Oh, dearie,” Sarah Rogers said, reaching out to wrap her arms around Darcy, “you’re welcome here anytime, truly. And keep Sunday dinners in mind. No reason to stay away like the boys do.”

Darcy squeezed her back, taking a deep breath of the cinnamon and rose scent of Sarah’s skin. She’d have been miserable over the break if she’d been alone in the dorms, despite what she’d told the boys before they convinced her to come. She was eternally grateful that they’d insisted. The whole trip had felt like she was surrounded by the biggest family. Laughter and joy and mischief. It’d been perfect.

Pulling back, Sarah pressed a kiss to her cheek. “ _Slán agus beannacht leat_ ,” she said, voice lilting with the Gaelic blessing. Smiling, Darcy grabbed the pink bag and rolling suitcase and made for the door. Sarah watched her leave before turning to Steve, pulling him into a crushing hug. “You take care of yourself, my son.”

“I will, Ma.”

“And the other boys.”

“Of course.”

“And her.”

Steve nodded, pulling back, hands staying on his mother’s shoulders. “We will.” He watched his mother reach into her pocket and pull out a small sachet; it was purple and made of velvet, and even though it was sealed shut, he caught the slight scent of chamomile and rosemary. “What’s this?”

“Put it in her room, hidden. I saw the way that man looked at her at the Halloween party. I don’t want him to touch her again.”

“Ma, we’ve -”

Sarah waved her hand, gesturing away the argument her son had been ready to make. “I know. Humor your mother. It should keep away anyone who means her harm. I don’t have the Power you and the other boys do, but this is the only thing I know how to do from afar.”

Steve looked at his mother and the serious lines on her face. She’d always had feelings, somehow knowing when it was going to storm, or hearing the phone ring and _knowing_ it was bad news. She’d raised him to believe in the fey; leaving a saucer of milk near the back door, placing a loaf of bread in her rose bushes in spring for a good growing season. Sarah Rogers didn’t have the same power that her son did, but she had traditions, and Steve knew better than to question her. 

He wrapped his hand around hers, the bag soft against his palm. “Alright, Ma.”

“I love you, boyo.”

“I love you, too, Ma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **”Slán agus beannacht leat” - “Goodbye and blessings with you”
> 
>  **OG:** More of the Mas! We never thought they’d be so beloved. Thank you so much for all of the lovely comments and kudos. They were so appreciated to get me through retail Christmas hell.
> 
>  **GV:** The Ma’s never cease to make me smile. I’m so excited for these upcoming chapters! <3


	5. Empty Cages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Darcy spend an evening at the animal shelter. Lack of sleep finally catches up with Darcy and Steve. Ward gets a new threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Oh, you beautiful people! All the comments, and reblogs on tumblr, and the kudos?  
> Getting that email makes us smile so hard.  
> Seriously. Thank you so much. Hope you like the new chapter!  
> <3  
> 
> 
>   
>    
> 

**Darcy** (To Steve and Jamie): _*Picture of Darcy kissing a kitty* The kitties miss you._  
 **Bucky:** _When do you go in next?_  
 **Darcy:** _Friday at 7pm. They’re having an adoption event. I’ll be working late._  
 **Bucky:** _Could you use some help? Steve’s got an art things but I can come_  
 **Darcy:** _Sure!_

The shelter event had gone great. There were a lot fewer furry faces blinking at Darcy from inside the cages. It was the reason she did the job - getting these animals forever homes - but it wasn’t always easy to say goodbye to the ones she’d come to love. And she’d come to love _all_ of them. Even Olive, the angriest orange tabby she’d ever met. It would hurt her heart when the spitfire was finally adopted. The sad thing was that she tended to hate everyone…

…except Jamie.

It was frustrating. Darcy had spent _hours_ trying to get on the cat’s good side, coaxing her with treats and the promise of pets, but so far she’d gotten bupkis. Was it possible that Jamie's charm spanned species? Of course it was possible. He oozed it from his pores. In fact, she was fairly certain several kittens had been adopted that day _because_ of that charismatic smile.

Sighing, Darcy lifted her arms over her head, stretching away the ache in her spine. The seats in the library weren’t particularly comfortable, and as she’d fallen asleep there more often than her dorm room over the past week, her back was protesting heavily. She jumped when a finger was poked into her ribs. “Jesus!”

Bucky laughed, dodging out of the way as she slapped at him. “So how many was that today?”

Darcy closed her eyes, nose crinkling, trying to remember. “Uh… Fifteen cats and eight dogs?”

“And two rabbits,” he added, smiling at her. 

Bucky loved helping find these animals a home. He hadn’t realized how rewarding it would be to hand their leash or carrier over to their new owners, saying goodbye, and shutting the door on a now empty cage. He was invigorated, filled with hope and happiness. He understood now why Darcy volunteered her time here. She didn’t have much _time_ in the first place, between her classes and her other jobs, but he got it now. He got _her_ a bit better now.

And wasn’t that what she’d done, that first day she’d met them? She’d adopted them into her family and they’d returned the favor in ways Bucky still marveled at. How had she fit in so seamlessly? Others had tried - boyfriends and girlfriends of the boys’ trying to make space for themselves in the larger narrative of their lives - but none of them had stuck. Until Darcy. Easily and with little effort. What was it about her that just… _fit_?

“So what’s left on the docket?” Bucky asked, rubbing his hands together and looking around the room for their next task. Darcy opened her mouth to reply when a door opening interrupted them.

Gladys poked her head into the back room, yelling to be heard over the barking of dogs. “Hey kids! We just had someone drop off the sweetest little lab they found digging into some garage cans in an alley. Do you have time to get her all cleaned up before you head out?”

Darcy looked at Bucky, uncertain how much longer he’d be willing to stay. She was glad when he just grinned at her and shrugged his shoulders. It never seemed like he was being put out, spending time here, and it made a curl of affection sing through her chest. “Sure thing,” Darcy said, giving Gladys a wave of her hand. Between the two of them, it wouldn’t take long to give the dog a bath. Besides, they were already covered in sweat and dog hair. What was a little more?

She’d turned to make her way toward the bathing room when the door from the front slammed open, and what had to be at least eighty pounds of chocolate lab took her to the ground. She fell on her butt, laughing, as the dog licked all over her face.

“If that’s Gladys’ idea of ‘little’, I’d hate to see what her idea of big is,” Bucky said, laughing as he tugged on the leash, trying to give Darcy a little breathing room. “You alright?”

Still giggling, Darcy managed to get to her knees before the brown flash of lightning jerked on the leash, trying to get back to the person on the ground. This time Darcy was ready for her, and made sure to keep her from jumping too much. 

“She’s a stray?” She looked up at Bucky, frown and disappointment on her face. It was pretty clear the dog had been taken care of recently, her nails even trimmed neatly. The fact that someone could abandon their pet so easily filled Darcy with a flush of anger. She looked back to the pup, petting behind her ears. “What kind of person does that?” she asked, keeping her voice friendly so the pup didn’t know the difference.

Bucky felt the same way, tugging softly on the leash and turning the dog’s attention to him so Darcy could stand. “So what do we call you, huh?” He bent at the hip, hands brushing along the dog’s head and ears then down her back. He patted her twice on her side then pulled her toward the bathing room.

Twisting her hair into a bun and securing it with a pen, Darcy followed him into the room, grabbing the shampoo and ear cleaning wipes from a shelf. When she turned around, Bucky had managed to navigate the pup into the tub. She waited until he’d secured the leash so the little lady couldn’t wiggle away, then grabbed their microchip sensor. She ran it over the pup’s neck, frowning when the machine chirped that there was no microchip with owner information. Setting it aside, she turned back to the task at hand, flipping on the water. 

Afraid she’d hate getting a bath, Darcy was pleasantly surprised when the lab vibrated with excitement, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she tried to keep her eyes on both of them. Testing the temperature on her arm first, Darcy ran the hose over the pup, cooing happily as she worked the water through to her undercoat. When she reached for the shampoo, she looked over at Bucky with a considering expression. “What about… Doggie Howlser MD?”

Bucky snorted a laugh. That was certainly a name, he’d give her that. “Neil Patrick Harris, she is not. Hmmm… What about Hershey?” When Darcy nodded and turned back, he helped her spread the shampoo into Hershey’s fur. Between the two of them, they managed to lull the dog into a happy stillness, fingers digging in enough to set one of her back legs twitching.

Darcy only had a second’s notice before she realized what was about to happen. She let out a cry, but knew it was too late for either of them. Bucky held up his arms to shield his face as the lab shook her body violently, water and shampoo flying through the air and all over the pair of them. Darcy just turned her head and giggled as the drops hit her skin, nose crinkling in mirth. “And _this_ is why I always come in clothes that I don’t care about,” she said, looking over at Bucky with a wide grin.

Bucky ran a quick hand over his face, realizing belatedly that his hand was covered in dog fur and he’d probably just rubbed it all in his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing, silly girl?” he cooed at the dog, “you’ll feel so much better when you’re clean!”

The lab wiggled her butt so hard as Bucky sweet talked her that Hersey’s tail knocked back and forth, hitting with enough force that it knocked the sprayer out of Darcy’s hand. The nozzle was stuck in the on position, _yo-yo_ ing on its spring, spraying warm water all over Bucky. The black t-shirt he was wearing was soaked through in seconds as he tried to catch the sprayer and turn it off, shouting in surprise each time it slipped through his fingers..

Darcy was bent over, clutching at her stomach as she giggled maniacally, absolutely useless as Bucky struggled to gain control of the hose. _Finally_ he was able to clutch the hose and push the lock. Though the sound of water had stopped, the room was anything but silent; Hershey’s tail was slamming back and forth against the metal tub, and Darcy was laughing, hand pressed over in mouth in an attempt to stifle her giggles.

Bucky looked over at Darcy, only sending her into another high-pitched peal of laughter. “Oh yeah? That’s how it is?” Bucky asked, a glint in the amused grey of his eyes. He smirked before he lifted the sprayer and aimed it toward Darcy, hand squeezing and sending a torrent of water in her direction.

Darcy shouted in surprise, trying to block the water with her hands but failing hard. She couldn’t help the offended noises that tore from her throat. The puppy barked happily as they stopped spraying _her_ and instead focused on soaking _each other_ , both of their breathless laughter echoing off the tiled walls. 

“ _James Barnes_!” Darcy gasped as another jet of water hit her square in the chest. The water wasn’t cold, but she was soaked to the bone, her shirt and jeans a lost cause, hair dripping down her face. She dove at Bucky, trying to block the water with one arm as she fumbled to grab the sprayer from his hands with the other. “Give it to me!”

“Kinky.” Her indignant noise made Bucky laugh harder, doing his best to keep the sprayer out of her reach. She was forced to reach over his head, face smacking against the front of his very wet shirt.

The shampoo coated the wet tiles and Darcy had a second to let out a yell as she began to fall, reaching out to catch herself. Her hands fisted in Bucky’s shirt, pulling him down with her. They tumbled to the ground in a mass of limbs. She was laughing and gasping as the hose bounced on its spring, spraying wildly around the room.

Bucky turned as they fell, trying to land so Darcy wouldn’t hit the tile. She fell on him with an _oof_ , still laughing. Hershey was barking, tail wagging, shaking soapy water everywhere. Bucky tried to push himself up, but he was laughing too hard. “Jesus, are you okay?” he snickered. Darcy balanced on one hand, knee between his thigh, glasses crooked and covered in droplets of water. 

“I’m fine, you dork,” she giggled, hand pressing against his chest as she looked down at him with amused eyes. “I had someone break my fall. How’s your ass? Besides ‘fine as hell’?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. Darcy’s hair was falling out of its messy bun, wild and curly. Her hazel eyes were bright, a ridiculously attractive pink tint high in her cheeks. She was smiling hard enough that her nose did that thing where it scrunched up just the slightest bit. She was covered in dog hair and soap, and Bucky was utterly captivated. He could feel everywhere she was pressed against him, warm and wet. His eyes flicked from hers and down to her mouth, where her perfect pink lips were smiling down at him. “You’re really beautiful when you laugh.”

Darcy laughed again, straightening her glasses so she could see out of them. The laugh faded as Bucky came into focus around the droplets stuck to her lenses, the look on his face making her pause. She froze when he reached up and tucked a piece of wet hair behind her ear, his lips parted slightly, his attention not on her eyes but focused somewhere lower on her face.

She blinked, flinching when the spray of water hit them again. Hershey’s excited barking filtered back to her ears and it seemed like time suddenly sped back up again. Swearing softly, Darcy rose to her knees, reaching up and finally capturing the sprayer before switching it off. 

Bucky watched her, straddling his leg with hers, the smallest bit of milky white skin showing on her lower stomach as she stretched for the nozzle. Her shirt was soaked, hugging every curve, leaving nothing to his imagination. 

And his imagination was _very, very good_.

Darcy turned back to Bucky, eyes pouring over the picture he made. His soaked black t-shirt clung to every line of his lean body, and she had to force herself to look away from all that pretty when she realized she’d been openly staring. She put a hand on his shoulder to balance herself, and bit down a groan when his hands went to her waist to keep her steady. His hands were always so warm against her skin, and she couldn’t help wondering what they’d would feel like on other parts of her body. She glanced back down at him, her cheeks heating. “Need help getting off?”

Bucky opened his mouth at her question, not exactly sure what he was going to say, but whatever words were on his tongue faded when Hershey began shaking, showering them both in soap and water again. 

Darcy placed both hands on Bucky’s chest and managed to climb to her feet as the pup attempted to join them on the floor. She was able to grab Hershey around the middle, keeping her in the tub. “Little help?” she squeaked, her voice higher than normal.

He climbed to his feet carefully, the tiles still slick with water and soap, using the side of the tub to stay upright. Bucky grabbed the sprayer and they finished the job, both of them quiet except for the encouraging words they directed at Hershey. When they were done, after doing their best to dry Hershey with towels, Bucky took her to a clean kennel, closing the door as the pup began rolling on her back on the blanket they’d put down for her.

Bucky took a deep, steadying breath before heading back to where he’d left Darcy. He leaned in the doorway to the bathing room, arms crossed over his chest, watching as Darcy put away the shampoo and other supplies. She lifted the hem of her shirt and pulled it away from her body, twisting and wringing it out, the water hitting the tiles with wet slaps. 

_**The floor** , Lewis. ‘Need help getting off **the floor**.’ You forgot to say that last part._ Cheeks still pink from the embarrassment, she attempted to rid her hair of the excess water that she could feel dripping down her neck and making her shirt even more wet. Things had shifted so suddenly that she was a bit dizzy, her heart still pumping heavy as she remembered the look on Bucky’s face as he’d looked up at her.

“Need help?” 

Darcy turned as she started rubbing a clean towel over her own hair to look at Bucky, pulled from her internal dissonance. “Hm? Oh, yeah, I think the mop is in the closet?”

He shook his head taking a step closer to her. “No, I meant with your hair.”

Darcy paused, trying to suss out whether he was joking or not. When it didn’t appear so, she shrugged her shoulders softly. “Oh, uh, sure?”

“I used to help Bekah with hers all the time,” Bucky explained as he came behind her, hands directing her shoulders to the light where he needed it. He took the towel and started at the bottom of her hair, squeezing it gently to work the water out, until he got to the crown of her head and rubbed it gently on top. He used his fingers to comb through the knots and tangles until the dark strands were as tangle free as they were going to get. He separated her hair into three fat sections, and deftly braided it back.

There weren’t any rubber bands, but he improvised, grabbing a twist tie they used for bags of food. He took a step back to inspect his work. Satisfied, his hands dropped away. “There.”

Darcy’s eyes opened slowly, hands reaching up to feel the neat queue at her neck. Bucky’s fingers running through her hair, so intimate and detailed, had forced a shiver up and down her spine. “There are a few sweatshirts up front. I’ll grab you, I mean, I’ll grab one for you and me. Be right back.” Darcy scrambled out of the room, slipping twice but managing to stay on her feet. 

Bucky blinked at the spot she’d just been, taking a deep breath. He paused for one more minute before grabbing the mop out of the closet, attempting to soak up the water that coated the entire room.

Sweatshirts acquired, but having no rescue for their soaked pants and shoes, they worked in mostly quiet as they finished their duties and cleaned up. After making sure dinners were taken care of and starting the laundry for the next day’s volunteers to take over, she locked the door, turning back to Bucky with a smile. It had gotten dark and the streetlamps cast yellow light and shadows around them. “Thanks for helping,” she said finally, studiously ignoring the feelings the night had brought back to the surface. “I would have been here all night if I was alone. Sorry for the mess, though. And the squeaky shoes.”

Bucky tucked Darcy into his side, pulling her close with his arm across her shoulders. “You know I love doing this with you, doll,” he said, completely sincere. The night might have ended up differently than he’d expected, but _any_ time he got to spend with Darcy left him happily content. “Let’s get you back before we both freeze to death.”

**To:** _Darcy Lewis_  
 **Note accompanying two dozen red roses and a single white rose:** _I can’t wait to see you again_

Mornings had never been a problem for Darcy. She’d much rather get up early, get what she needed done out of the way, and have the rest of the evening to relax. It’s how she managed to be a full-time student with enough time for multiple jobs and volunteering. Granted the job thing was a necessity, as that money was used for books and tuition when possible, but she’d never felt like she couldn’t handle the load.

Now? Now it was a problem.

She’d not been sleeping well at all. Nightmares and insomnia had become a regular occurrence. Darcy reasoned that she was stressed out, simply too many exams and a heavy workload starting to take its toll. She couldn’t always explain away the nightmares, though; something was always watching her from the shadows, just out of reach, and despite every effort, she never seemed to be able to scream. Jane, her wonderful logical best friend, suggested it was because she had repressed emotions that she wasn’t dealing with.

Yeah. That made sense.

When she _did_ sleep and managed to avoid having a nightmare about eyes that seemed to follow her everywhere, Darcy dreamed of _other_ things. Things she didn’t have a right to fantasize about. Blond hair tangling with dark, the soft bow of an upper lip, bright blue eyes and stormy grey ones, together, all at once.

And then there were the other _other_ dreams. The non steamy ones. Ones full of family dinners, and vacations, and a life that seemed too good to be true. Those were almost harder to wake up from, the ghosts of a possible reality that she’d never get to have. Because it wasn’t _hers_.

So, as awful as it was, Darcy welcomed the insomnia, happy to avoid dreaming all together. Some nights she’d seek out Steve, some nights he’d find her. They’d talk, or not, and just be insomniacs together.

On this Thursday, by the time she’d walked into their history class, she’d only had five hours of _real good sleep_ in the past three days. She could feel her eyes growing heavy, like they were weighted, actually nodding off once. She’d caught herself as her head began to fall, startling awake with wide eyes. She tried to focus on McHottie as he talked, but his accent was soothing, and as he talked about trade regulations and embargoes and how they affected so many other aspects of life, Darcy slouched in her seat a little more, her head lolling to the side.

Steve was trying to take notes but he was pretty sure he was only able to understand every other word. His paper was a jumble of letters and doodles he used as a way to keep his eyes open. He and Darcy had spent the better part of six hours in the library that morning, sharing a set of earbuds and playing songs for each other. They’d been too tired to sleep but also too tired to do any real work, so instead they told each other memories, explaining what the songs and their lyrics reminded them of.

He’d loved it, getting a better idea of who Darcy was, the kid she’d been growing up. Steve’d also loved _telling_ Darcy about what it’d been like for him when he was sick and couldn’t go outside, what it’d been like before he’d met Sam and Clint, about the Saturday mornings when his dad would make pancakes and his mom would warble to The BeeGees.

It’d been a nice few hours, getting Darcy to himself, but he was definitely feeling it now. Where he’d been unable to find rest the previous night, he now couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open. He yawned, leaning back in his seat. Steve’s eyes opened slowly when he felt Darcy’s head hit his shoulder, casting a glance down at her. Her face was peaceful as she slept, using him as a pillow. She’d lost the battle to stay awake. He tried, really he did, but as he leaned his head to hers, cheek pressed to the softness of her hair, Steve stopped fighting, too.

Clint kicked Sam’s chair, earning a glare from his best friend as he looked up from his notes. He nodded his head toward the two people in front of them, slouched in their chairs, heads pressed together. A small smile curled Sam’s lips before he knocked his shoulder into Bucky’s.

Bucky’d been texting with Bekah, talking her down from murdering her lab partner, but looked at Sam when he nudged, following his friend’s gaze to Steve and Darcy, who were very obviously asleep. His eyes warmed at the sight of them resting on each other. _They haven’t been sleeping well_ , he explained to Sam and Clint, grey eyes filled with worry.

 _They okay?_ Clint asked, concern in his tone.

_Insomnia. We’ve woken her up from nightmares a few times._

_She’s having nightmares now, too?_

Bucky shrugged his shoulders at Sam. _Won’t say what they are, but they don’t sound good._

_Take them back to your room. Missing a few classes can’t be worse than falling asleep in the middle of one._

He couldn’t argue with Sam’s logic. Bucky turned back to look at the pair, glad they were getting some kind of sleep, regardless of where it happened. An hour later, everyone began to pack up their things. Bucky tossed his backpack over his shoulder and jumped down to the next row. He knelt beside Steve, reaching out to run his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “Steve?”

Steve’s eyes opened slowly, squinting at the lights that had been brightened now that the lecture was over. “Hng?”

Bucky smiled softly. “You should go back to the room, get some sleep. Both of you.”

Sighing, Steve tried to straighten but stopped when the body pressed against his side made a sound of protest. He leaned his cheek back to her hair. “Time to wake up, Darce.”

“Mmmm,” she hummed, “sleep.”

“I know, doll, but unless you want to stay here for The Theater of American Politics and hear Professor Pierce drone on and on, you need to clear out,” Bucky said, voice gentle.

When Steve bumped his shoulder a bit, Darcy managed to open her eyes, glasses halfway down her face and hanging precariously. “Oh. _Oh_!” She righted her glasses, eyes flashing wide, sitting straight up. “I’m going to be late!” she cried as she started quickly gathering her things.

Bucky stood, offering Steve a hand up. “Why don’t you come back to our place and take a nap? You’d only miss a class or two.”

Darcy shook her head. “I have to work right after class today, I don’t have the time.”

Steve reached out and grabbed her hand, stilling her panic for a second. “You’re not going to be good to anyone if you’re too exhausted to function.”

Darcy took a deep breath. She was tired, _so tired_ , and while the idea of going back to Steve and Bucky’s room to make a warm pile on the bed and nap sounded _so good_ , she had way too much to do. Not to mention she didn’t need anymore fuel for the ‘I’m the cream in the middle of a Jamie and Steve sandwich’ dreams.

She squeezed Steve’s hand. “You’re very sweet, but that power nap helped. I should be good to go now. Did someone get notes?” She tossed a hopeful glance at Sam and Clint, smile brightening when Sam held up his notes. She nodded, relieved, before pulling her hand from Steve’s grasp. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?” Darcy started to walk away, but darted back, pressing a quick kiss to Bucky’s cheek. “Thanks for the flowers. They were pretty. Thanks!”

Bucky opened his mouth, having no idea what flowers she was talking about, but she’d already passed the incoming students and disappeared from view. He grabbed Steve’s hand, pulling his boyfriend’s eyes toward him. “Are you going to fight me too?”

“No. Take me to bed.”

“Get a room!” Clint exclaimed with a playful groan.

Ward stared at the phone in his hand before his eyes flicked up to land on Darcy. He was following her at a distance, careful of how close he got. Her cadre of security had begin to slacken, just like he knew they would; they couldn’t watch her every second of every day, and he’d gotten good at staying in the shadows, waiting for his moment.

He didn’t want to answer the call, but he knew better than to decline it. In the three seconds he’d looked down at the screen, Darcy had seemingly disappeared. Ward’s voice was rough when he swiped his thumb and accepted the call. “Father,” he said, dark gaze sharp with frustration.

“ _Grant_.”

Peter Ward’s voice held the same commanding and oppressive weight as it did in person, and Ward drew a steady breath in and out of his lungs, making his tone flat, burying his fury down deep, just like he’d been taught. “How are you?”

“ _You can keep the bullshit small talk for your friends. When you speak to me, you will address me as ‘sir’. Or have you forgotten your manners so easily?_ ”

“Of course not, sir,” Ward bit out, his teeth already grinding together, “I was simply surprised by your call.”

“ _Imagine_ my _surprise when I received a call from our friends in the Hartford police department._ ”

Ward’s mouth went dry, his stomach giving the smallest flip of fear before he stamped it down, nodding his head and smiling as a group of girls walked in front of him, pointing their bright grins in his direction. “I have no idea what they’d have -”

“ _I was informed about your little stunt at the Blatchford Halloween party._ ”

Pulling the phone from his ear, Ward swore a red streak under his breath and turned his face away from the crowd of students, not wanting to show anyone such a reaction. When he was certain he could control his voice, he lifted the phone again. “Sir, I assure you -”

“ _From what I hear, you’re lucky they let you leave without charges. I taught you better than to leave marks, Grant._ ”

It seemed his lack of self-control had made quite a few ripples. That it’d gotten to his father’s ear was frustrating, and Ward had hoped they’d avoid this conversation, but he’d learned as a younger man that gossip and rumors _always_ seemed to travel to the Ward patriarch in one way or another. “It was a mistake,” he said after a quiet moment, knowing his father would be expecting some kind of groveling.

“ _No, the mistake was believing you could carry the Ward family name without bringing it shame._ ”

Ward’s eyes closed, tongue darting out to lick his dry lips. “I swear I will make this right.”

“ _I’m not expecting you to make it right. I’m expecting you to_ learn _from this error. I don’t have to remind you what happens to people that disappoint me. Just because we share the same blood doesn’t mean I won’t cut off a decaying limb if it’s needed for the health of the tree._ ”

The threat of being cut off from the Ward family assets was a heavy enough punishment in itself, but Ward understood that losing his inheritance would only be the beginning. Fathers lost sons all the time, in tragic accidents, and Ward’s father had enough pull that losing out on millions would be the _least_ of Ward’s troubles if he failed his father again. “That won’t be necessary, sir. I won’t let it happen again.”

“ _Remember what you were taught, Grant, or my hand will be forced._ ”

“Yes, sir, and I promise -”

Ward pulled the phone from his ear when he heard the beeps signaling his father had hung up. He had half a mind to chuck his phone at the nearest wall, reveling in the way it would shatter and fall to the ground, but his lack of self-control was the exact reason he found himself in his current situation.

_It’s her fault. If she hadn’t embarrassed me, this wouldn’t be a problem. She thinks she can just ruin my life and get away with it?_

Slipping back into the crowd of students running from one end of the campus to the other, Ward used their chaos to calm his rage-fueled inner thoughts. He wasn’t going to be made a fool again, not by them, and not by _her_. He was going to show Darcy what he was made of, and when Collins followed through on his end of the bargain, he’d show his father the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Darcy_ wishes to express that your local animal shelter is _always_ looking for volunteers and/or donations.  
> ...And if you have it in your heart/finances to open your home through foster or adoption?  
> Allow me to drown you in a torrent of happy tears!  
> Don't shop. Adopt.  
> <3  
> 


	6. Final Haze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy experiences a confusing run-in with Chase, and confesses her feelings for Steve and Bucky to Jane. When Bucky and Steve suggest Darcy stay with them over the holidays they do not get the answer they were hoping for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another little break, but that's life, right? Thank y'all for sticking around! We're getting to the good stuff now and we can't wait to show it to you!
> 
> Thank you _so much_ for all the comments, kudos, and reblogs over on Tumblr. They mean the world!
> 
> <3  
>   
> 

“Boys!” Everyone turned to look at Darcy at the tone in her voice and the clap of her hands. Judging by their wide eyes, her shout had filled with them the appropriate level of fear. “I love all of you, so very much, _truly_ , but if you don’t focus so we can get this done, I will put a plague on all y’all’s houses.”

When Darcy’s Virginian accent came out? Straits were dire, and none of the men seated at the table wanted to feel her fiery judgement focus on them. Steve had the grace to look down sheepishly before he opened his folder and handed his part of the project to Darcy. They’d all decided that the best way to tackle the material was to split it up, letting each person become all but experts on their portion and then work together to make everything into one cohesive, overarching study. “Here. My citations are at the end.”

Only feeling semi-guilty at how far off-topic their conversation had gotten, Bucky pulled his stuff out, too, sliding it across the table toward the frazzled project lead. She’d been sending them text updates and reminders, making sure everyone had everything they needed to make this project come together. Bucky wasn’t sure where she pulled her seemingly endless energy from, but he’d found himself in awe of her work ethic.

Darcy took their papers, feeling bad that she’d snapped at them. Between her other classes, work, _and_ volunteering, she was stretched pretty thin. Her sleep hadn’t gotten any better, and now she was having horrible dreams of being caught in webs, unable to get out, the beady black eyes of the spider getting closer and closer, mandibles clicking in the darkness. She’d never been too terribly frightened by spiders before, but it was unsettling, to say the least.

“A lot of these are personal journals,” she said, grabbing for Sam and Clint’s work, too. “You had access to these?” She looked over at Bucky, unable to place the look on his face.

Bucky cleared his throat, tapping his pen on the table, avoiding direct eye contact. For some reason, he’d found it almost impossible to lie to Darcy, so he decided to go for vague truths. “My family goes back pretty far in the area. We know a lot of the families who’ve been here for generations. They were helpful.”

Darcy nodded, eyebrows lifting, feeling suitably impressed. As long as their validity could be proven, she was more than happy to get a first-hand view of the time period they’d chosen. The group had texted each other back and forth, as well as talked to each other before and after class and, surprisingly, it appeared they all had a pretty good handle on everything. 

As Darcy had said on the first day of class, she’d been looking for a group that she wouldn’t have to do all the work for.

She’d gotten what she’d wished for.

Sighing softly, Darcy’s shoulders sagged with relief as she took a heavy seat at the table. She looked between the four boys with a tired smile of gratitude on her face. “Guys. I owe you all drinks. A multitude of drinks.”

Steve rose to his feet and rounded the table so he could wrap his arms around her, dropping his cheek on the top of her head. He let his arms hang loosely around her, shooting the rest of the group a happy smile. He didn’t know how Darcy was able to juggle everything she did, and _still_ manage to be a human being, much less the funny, caring, charming person she was. “Drinks for everyone once finals are over,” Steve suggested. 

“Just prop up my corpse if I don’t make it,” Darcy said. She leaned into Steve for a moment before patting his arms with her hands. He was warm, as usual, but Darcy found herself missing the woodsmoke smell that had somehow transferred to his body during Thanksgiving. In fact, she found herself longing for the chaise lounge in his room, and the warmth of the fire in the grate, anything that reminded her of the perfect holiday they’d had. 

“So we’re running this by Jane first, right? I mean, what good is it being friends with the TA if we can’t use her to make sure we don’t fail?”

Darcy grinned widely at Clint and the slightly worried tone in the usually affable man’s voice. She’d already had a conversation with Jane about proofreading their paper. Luckily Jane was not doing any grading on the final projects so there was no conflict of interest.

...unless you counted the fact that Darcy knew what Professor McHottie’s penis looked like. In great detail. But she was only prepared to use _that_ particular weapon as a last resort.

“Yeah, that’s actually one of the things she’s doing for all the groups. Giving a second set of eyes. I’ll be running it over to her once I get it all formatted. You all used Oxford commas, yeah?” Darcy’s eyes widened as they stared at her with blank looks. “Are you fucking _kidding_ me?”

Yes, they were fucking kidding her, and the boys laughed as she started throwing balled up post-it notes at them.

Darcy was walking across the quad, earbuds in and music playing; she had an hour until her next final and was happily taking a stroll, enjoying the early winter weather. It’d been cold, but other than a single big snow storm, it’d been surprisingly brisk so far. If she could live in yoga pants and a sweatshirt for the rest of her life, she'd be one happy girl.

She cried out in alarm when her flip flop caught on an unburied part of a tree root, the rubber strap breaking. " _Fuck_!" She was too far away from her dorm to walk all the way back to get a new pair of shoes, so after a minute of wallowing in her bad luck, she nodded, knowing what needed done.

She was going to MacGyver the shit out of her flip flop. 

Looking up, she was close enough to the anthropology building that she could pop in and figure out what to do. She looked ridiculous, walking barefoot into the hundred-years old building, but necessity took precedence over fashion. 

Luckily, Darcy remembered that she had a roll of electrical tape in her bag. She shifted her bag from her back to let it dangle one-shouldered against her chest. She reached into it without looking, being careful not to step on anything in her path. She let out a howl of pain and pulled her hand from the bag. She winced in pain as she saw the cut on her palm, watching the blood well and begin to flow. Somehow, her exacto knife safety cap had come dislodged and she'd sliced herself up nicely. 

_Broken shoes and a stab wound. You're winning this Thursday, Lewis._

She beelined for the nearest bathroom, opening it with a push of her back. It was dark inside, but the motion detector threw on the horrible fluorescent lights as she walked in further. Darcy crossed to the sink, grabbing a generous handful of paper towels and pressing it against the now freely bleeding cut. She hissed as she moved the paper towel away, the sharp biting pain immediate as she ran it under the water.

The yellow light flickered above her, making her glance up. Hoping they didn’t suddenly turn off - _it must be my lucky day_ , she groused - Darcy looked back in the mirror, jumping nearly a foot in the air when she noticed a person standing _right_ behind her. “ _Fuck_!”

She spun around, bloody hand coming to her chest as her heart threatened to stop. She recognized the dark hair and jawline, though she’d never seen him wear that jacket before. “Jamie! You scared the hell out of me!”

Chase smiled at Darcy, eyes looking her up and down. So _this_ was the one who’d infiltrated _their_ group. How… mundane. He couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Ward made it seem like she was something otherworldly. He was unimpressed. “Sorry,” he said, trying to make his voice friendly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Darcy laughed nervously, trying to calm her speeding pulse. It’d been a few days since she’d last seen him, or Steve, or _any_ of the group, really. The combination of post-holiday rushing and preparing for finals left little time for dinners and movie nights. She still texted with them, but it was odd; they’d become such a regular part of her life that she felt a bit… lost… without them. “I thought you had class across campus?”

“What good is college if you can’t skip a class here and there?”

She remembered him saying almost that exact same things a couple weeks prior and shrugged her shoulders, turning back to the sink and her bloody her hand. “Okay, I guess a better question is what you’re doing in the _girls_ bathroom?” She ran the cut under the water again before grabbing more paper towels and applying pressure, glancing up at the mirror to see him.

“I saw you come in and decided to follow you.” Chase lifted and eyebrow and rose to his tiptoes, trying to look over her shoulder. “What’d you do?”

Darcy turned back to Bucky, blinking when he was _right there_ again, inches away and looking down at her. “Exacto Knife, one. Darcy Lewis, zero,” she quipped with a embarassed snort. She was startled when Bucky grabbed her hand in his, her eyes sliding up to look up at his face. In the shadows cast by the flickering light, his eyes looked darker, somehow more green than grey. “It’ll be fine. I... I won’t even need stitches.”

He feigned an empathetic hiss. Chase ran his thumb over the back of her hand as he turned it toward the flickering light to get a better look at her palm. His eyes flicked to hers, noticing the way her pupils dilated and her lips parted. It wouldn’t take much. Just a little bit. He kept the smirk from his lips as he glanced back to her hand, pulling softly, just enough to put her closer. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Here, I’ll help.”

Chase closed more of the distance between them, moving her toward the sink. He positioned her directly in front of it, pushing until her thighs pressed against the porcelain, her body held there by his. He wrapped his arms around her from behind. “You wouldn’t want an infection,” he said against the side of her face, breath warm on her cheek.

Darcy had stilled at Bucky’s words and movements, He pressed himself behind her, crowding her personal space. She held her breath as he washed her palm, fingers gentle and careful as they moved over the cut. As he pressed closer, she felt the heat fill her cheeks and avoided looking at herself in the mirror. The last thing she needed was to know exactly how red her face was flushing. “I… I think it’s good now,” she said after what felt like ages.

When he didn’t move away, she turned in the circle of his arms, eyes widening at the look on his face. It was intense, almost… predatory. It made a shiver flow up her spine, both from his expression and his close proximity. He moved an inch closer and Darcy bent backward, uncertain what else to do, her heart stopping as his lips hovered centimeters away from hers. She heard the water turn off behind her before he took a small step backward, enough that she wasn’t pressed against the whole of his body. 

“Do you have a bandaid?”

Darcy shook her head at his question. It took two attempts at words before she could vocalize. “N-no. But it’s okay. I’ll grab one when I get to my next class.”

“Holocaust and the Bible, right?” Chase asked. She nodded at him. He shined her a bright smile, the expression hollow but a good approximation of what he’d seen Barnes wear. “I thought so. You’ll need to get going if you’re going to make it on time.”

Surprised that he’d remembered her class schedule, and knocked a bit from the whole situation, Darcy nodded toward her broken shoe. “Yeah, I actually needed to fix my sandal. I’ve got tape in my bag.”

“I got it.” 

Chase crouched and rifled through her bag until he located the black tape. He grabbed the flip flop and fixed what he could. He held it out for her, looking up at her with a smile. She hesitated, but eventually pushed her foot into it. When he stood, he made every effort to travel up the length of her body, drawing his lower lip between his teeth as he blinked heavily lidded eyes at her. “There you go. All fixed.”

He was a breath away and, once again, Darcy found herself unable to speak. She nodded. Eventually she had to sidestep so she was no longer trapped between him and the sink. “Thanks,” she managed, reaching for her bag. When he handed it to her, for some reason hesitating before holding it out, she threw it over her shoulder. She pressed the towels against the cut, keeping pressure, though she couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. It’d gone numb, along with a few other parts of her body. She looked at the bloody paper towels and sink, taking a step toward them. “I’ll throw -”

Before she could grab them, Chase stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “No, it’s fine,” he said, hoping the smile on his face seemed happy to help. ”I’ll clean up. Go ahead. You don’t want to be late.”

Darcy nodded at him a few more times, walking backward. She ran into a metal garbage can, startling at the loud sound in the small bathroom. Face flaming anew, she gave him a nod and a weak smile, turning on her heel before practically running from the room. Her arousal for Bucky was not new. She’d been dealing with her feelings for him and Steve on her own for weeks, _months_ , trying to move past it. They were together, and she had _no_ desire to ruin what they had. She loved them. They were _family_. 

… but she remembered the way Steve had pulled her against his body the morning after his birthday party, his lips under her fingers and his arms wrapped around her. Her gaze had travelled to stare at his lips, wondering if they’d feel as soft against her lips as they did her fingers ...

... and she remembered the night at the shelter, when Bucky’d looked up at her, calling her beautiful, touching her hair and smiling that damn smile of his. And now, seconds ago, pinned by Bucky, his body pressed against every inch of her, holding her there ....

A wave of guilt washed over Darcy, dampening whatever spark of attraction had risen. There was no way she would allow herself to hurt them. They loved each other, were happy, and her fever dreams needed to stop. Maybe she needed to take a step back. Her friendships with the boys had gotten so strong, so fast. Maybe she needed boundaries. She couldn’t hurt them, and she refused to put them in an awkward situation. She cared about them too damned much.

The smile on Chase’s face faded as the door closed after her escape. He looked up at the light, the flicker ceasing, ridding the room of its shadows. Spotting the pile of bloody towels, a smirk turned his lips. He gathered what was there, stuffing it in his pocket. He wasn’t sure what he could use it for, but he’d think of something.

“Done! I am officially done submitting papers! _And_ I just finished my final presentation for the semester,” Jane announced as she walked into her apartment. She dropped her bag to the floor, her coat and scarf on top of it, then toed off her boots. Jane made it the rest of the way into the living room, reached into her shirt, and deftly removed her bra with a triumphant grunt. She threw the offending torture device in the approximate direction of her bedroom.

“Freedom!” Darcy called from the couch, grinning around a mouthful of pop tarts. Darcy had been done with the semester for days, but Jane’d had a few things left. The dorms basically closed down during break, so Darcy had been crashing at Jane’s, staying _very quiet_ until her friend was completely done with all her work; she didn’t want to tempt the dragon she knew resided in Jane, waiting to be awoken. She held out a foil wrapped package and wiggled it in the air at her best friend. “Share the joy of endings with me.”

Jane flopped onto the couch and grabbed the pop tarts greedily, lifting her feet and putting them in Darcy’s lap. “The joys of endings? That’s pretty maudlin, don’t you think?”

“Don’t use big words on me, Janey, I’ve already had three of these packs and am too full of tarted pops to think straight.”

“I never think straight. Girls are pretty.”

“Mmhmm. But you’ll have to come up with a better line than that, even though it’s true,” Darcy hummed. “So, I got a gift card from the shelter as a thank you. Dinner’s on me tonight! You may choose from any of these fine dining establishments.” Darcy had pulled out the various take out menus Jane kept in her kitchen drawer, where all menus went to die. For all that Jane was tech savvy, Darcy had no idea why the woman insisted on paper menus when everything was online. 

Jane made grabby hands and sorted through the pamphlets. “I haven’t done Indian in a while,” she said, brown eyes glancing up at Darcy to judge her friends opinion. “Should I put in our usual order?”

“Just get extra samosas.”

Some time later, when they were both in stretchy pants and ridiculously fuzzy socks, bellies full of food, Darcy leaned her head onto Jane’s shoulder. Something had been brewing in her stomach, steadily and then suddenly all at once, and it _wasn’t_ the combination of curry and poptarts. They’d turned on _Dirty Dancing_ for the hundredth time and, for some reason, watching Baby tell Johnny she loved him was just too much. Darcy found herself needing to express feelings of her own. “Hey, Janey?”

“Yeah?”

“... you remember when you asked me to think of what gave me tummy flips, and I told you it was nothing?”

“Mhmmm,” Jane hummed, eyes still on the TV.

“I - it... ItsSteveandJamie.”

Jane’s eyes were wide as she turned her attention away from the TV and toward her best friend. She shrugged her shoulder, forcing Darcy to straighten and look at her. “What now?”

“In the car, after the gala. We were -”

“No, no, I know that part. I said ‘what now’ because I thought you said Steve _and_ Jamie.” When Darcy refused to meet her eyes, the older woman’s brows raised higher. “ _Oh_.”

Pink flamed into Darcy’s cheeks and she picked at imaginary lint on her leggings, feeling like an idiot for voicing it aloud. She knew Jane would never make her feel stupid, but as she held Jane’s opinion above almost anyone else’s, she worried what her best friend thought. “It’s dumb, I know,” she said, tone flippant and dismissive, even though she felt anything but.

“It’s not dumb, Darcy.”

“Yes it is. When I talked to Steve that first day in class, it was because he was cute, and he was taking notes, and something about that did it for me. And then I met the rest of them, and you were there, and he kept getting better the more I hung out with him. _And then._ There was Jamie, and his smile, and that charm of his, and stuff started to grow in me for him, too, and they were always together, and then they were a _they_ , but it didn’t matter because they were already there, in my head.” _In my heart._

Jane had known Darcy long enough to know the words weren’t done, despite her quick intake a breath.

“And Jamie helps me at at the shelter, and he calls me doll, and his eyes are dumb. And Steve always has charcoal under his fingernails, and when he’s home he smells like woodsmoke, and I like both of them, and it’s driving me crazy, and I don’t know what to do because they’re together and I can’t make it stop.”

Jane’s hand squeezed Darcy’s knee, seeing the emotions swell behind her best friend’s hazel eyes. “Darcy. Sweetie. It’s okay.”

“Did I tell you that I woke up between them after the shitshow of Halloween? We were all in the same bed, which was more like a freaking _boat_ , and I had curled up on one side, and they had the other. But I woke up warm, and safe between them, and everything was okay. Steve was wrapped around me, and I was on Jamie’s chest, and I didn’t have one nightmare. Then at Thanksgiving, I couldn’t sleep again until I was in bed with Steve. No nightmares.” 

Darcy sniffed. She wasn’t going to cry, damn it. It was just the spice from the food. “It just feels so right. But I know it’s wrong.”

“Why is it wrong?”

Darcy let out a hollow laugh at Jane’s question, reaching up to swipe her eyes with the back of her hand. “Because they’re together. You don’t hold out hope for someone that’s already taken. And I’ve seen the photos in their houses, Jane. I’ve asked Bekah. They’ve been together since they were kids. Maybe not _together_ together, but they are each other’s. Since forever. I can’t… I can’t hurt them like that.”

“So you let yourself get hurt instead?” Jane asked, reaching out to pull Darcy’s foot into her lap, squeezing it. “How does that that help anyone?”

Darcy shook her head. “It sucks. It just... sucks.” She wished she could express the ache in her chest better, but it was a useless endeavor. Any time she thought of Jamie or Steve, she was torn in two; one part of her looked at them and saw possibilities, the other part of her saw nothing but heartbreak. She’d been wrestling internally with the dichotomy for months, and it just kept getting worse.

“Have you considered _telling_ them how you feel? Maybe it’ll help to just get it all out there.”

“Just blurt out ‘yes, pretty gentlemen, my dreams have been dominated by the two of you lately, and I’d like to propose we all have sex in a big sweaty pile, and then get breakfast and do it all over again’? That should go over well.”

“Well, okay, maybe you don’t say _that_ ,” Jane said with a frown in Darcy’s direction, “but just talk to them about it. Tell them you’ve developed feelings for them and you want to stay their friend, but you’re worried that your feelings could affect your relationships with them unless the three of you discuss everything and put it all in the open.”

It was a rational, logical, well thought out response, but Darcy was sure that if she tried to talk to them, there’d be tears and hiccups and word vomit, if not _actual_ vomiting.

When Darcy didn’t answer, Jane reached for her other foot and began to massage it with her hands. “Have Steve or James done anything that made you feel like they might have feelings for you, too?” Jane had seen the looks the boys gave Darcy, had even mentioned it to her friend several times, but when it came to matters of the heart, her best friend tended to be loveblind.

“Have you _seen_ the four of them? I’ve never been around a group of people who were so casually affectionate, and I was a teenage girl not so long ago,” Darcy said, struggling when she realized that information hadn’t really answered Jane’s question. “Steve was .. and then Jamie almost, and...”

“Darcy.”

She glanced up at Jane, eyes focusing and pulling her from her thoughts. “What?”

“Use all of your words, hun.”

Darcy sighed, her eyes screwing closed. “I think we may have almost kissed. Maybe?” She didn’t have to differentiate _who_ she’d almost kissed because it was _both_ of them, at different times. Maybe she was just imagining it, her brain seeing what she wanted to see. That made a lot more sense than thinking there’d been actual signs and signals.

“Darcy. Just _talk_ to them. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“The worst that could happen? Hmmm… Let’s see. I could express my feelings to them. They are taken aback, because they’re in a relationship and I’m inserting myself somewhere I don’t belong. There are awkward conversations of them assuring me that it’s fine, and they’re sorry that they might have done anything that would make me have feelings for them, but they’ll do their best to stop sending mixed signals, which they actually hadn’t been sending in the first place.

And now, since we don’t have a class together anymore, my time spent with them will dwindle down until I’ve gone from seeing them almost every day to seeing them once or twice a month. They’ve got class and it’s just so hard to get together. Suddenly these boys who have become such an important part of my life, all _four_ of them, aren’t there anymore. I’ve only known them a handful of months and they’ve known each other since fifth grade. It’d be an easy choice.

So we talk less and less, and next year I graduate and move away and some of my best friends have stopped talking to me, so I become an old, lonely lady who hoards cats and goes to the grocery store and talks to the cashier because I never talk to anyone anymore and crave the human contact.”

Darcy sucked in a large amount of air, wincing as Jane squeezed her heel and it stung with ache.

Jane pulled Darcy to her, wrapping Darcy up in her arms and rocking slightly. She hated seeing Darcy so upset, and found herself torn between calling those damn boys herself, or murdering them for making Darcy feel this way, however unintentionally. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore tonight. Just think about it, okay?”

Darcy nodded into Jane’s shoulder, quiet for a moment while listening to the flood of thoughts in her head. She sighed, pulling back to give Jane a small smile “Can we watch _The Mummy_ now? I need to see a librarian kick some ass.”

“ _Lord bless Charlie Mops, the man who invented beer beer beer, tiddly beer beer beer_ ,” Clint sang, lifting his pint in a toast before taking a long draw. His tongue clicked as he swallowed, casting a large grin at the people gathered around him. “And that, my friends, is just the _beginning_ of my useless knowledge of pub songs.”

“I don’t know, Clint, you could always do the faire circuit if this whole underwear model thing doesn’t work out,” Jane commented, face rosy with heat and wine.

“Fair circus? Who are you, Dick Grayson?” Darcy gasped when several people looked her way with a blank, unknowing expression on their faces. “Robin? Batman and Robin? _Fuck_ , why do I even hang out with you people?” she asked as she took another sip from her very large, very blue, and very fruity drink.

Jane blinked at her friend, trying to suss out what the hell Darcy’d been talking about. She knew Darcy was a few drinks in, but she’d gotten pretty good translating Saucy Darcy, and none of that had made sense. Her eyes widened as it all clicked into place. She’d said ‘Faire circuit’. Saucy Darcy had heard ‘Fair circus’. Dick Grayson was a trapeze artist. Rolling her eyes, Jane leaned back in her chair with a shake of her head.

“I was more worried about the underwear modeling thing. He’s got tiny chicken legs. And yeah, _yeah_ , I already know what his arms look like,” Sam said, cutting off the girls as they’d all opened their mouths to respond, sending them into giggles.

Darcy finished the rest of her Mai Tai, setting the glass down on the table but taking the garnish and twirling it in her fingers. She pulled the piece of pineapple and sucked on it, scanning the crowd. They definitely weren’t the only ones celebrating the end of finals week, and if she had to judge, there was a haze of tipsiness hanging over everyone in the bar. Herself included. The alcohol helped make everything a little muddled, and a little muddled was just fine with her.

“I, for one, am looking forward to a month of doing nothing but eating Ma’s cooking and sleeping,” Bucky said, stretching his arm around Steve as he leaned back. It didn’t work as well as it used to; even though Steve still had a tiny waist, he was now tall and broad enough that he didn’t fit under Bucky’s arm like before.

“When are you headed home, Darcy?” Wanda asked. 

Darcy shook her head, pulling the piece of fruit from between her lips. “Not going home. Mom and Dad won a cruise in the Mediterranean at one of the library conferences my mom went to, and since its their twenty-fifth anniversary this year, they couldn’t pass it up. I’m hanging around Jane’s apartment and I’ll probably see if I can pick up some paid hours at the shelter.”

Jane frowned, shaking her head softly. “I’d get so much motion sickness. It’d be horrible.”

Darcy held out hands with wiggly fingers toward Natasha when she appeared with a tray full of refills. “Ooh, gimme gimme gimme!” She took a long sip through the straw, the taste of rum and tequila burning in a pleasant way before turning to Wanda with a grin. “What about you? I hear you have a twin! When do we get to meet this mysterious fella?”

Wanda grinned, happiness filling her eyes. “He’s coming down from the city next week. My roommates are all going home for break so we’ll have the house to ourselves. He’ll be here through New Years, and then we’re both headed back home for a week or so.”

“Where’s home?” Darcy asked.

“Brooklyn.” When Darcy blinked at her in surprise, Wanda waved a hand gracefully through the air, her lips curling into a smirk at the joke. “Slovakia. Our grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins are still there. We’ll spend Epiphany with them.”

Grinning at Wanda’s smooth delivery, Darcy’s head tilted to the side as she continued to suck at her straw. “Isn’t that, like, Second Christmas, or something?” she asked.

Wanda nodded, sipping her drink, “or Orthodox Christmas. I’m looking forward to seeing my Baba.”

“Maybe we can get dinner one night. I’d love to meet him,” Darcy said, smiling when Wanda nodded her head. Her face fell a second later. “Your twin, I mean. Not your Baba. Not that I wouldn’t like to meet your Baba, but… yeah. Twin visits.”

“That could be arranged.”

“We should _all_ get together. The city basically shuts down during winter hols,” Bucky said, leaning forward on the table. “Maybe we’ll finally get to see a few of your pieces, too, Wanda. Steve says they’re amazing.”

“They _are_ amazing,” Steve assured the group, “the things she can do with metal… it’s like she’s able to bend it to her whim, I’m telling you.”

Wanda nodded her head in Steve’s direction, grinning at her friend, before turning her attention to the man at Steve’s side. “And what about you, James? Going home? Visiting your sister?”

“Bekah is actually coming home this break, so between eating Ma Rogers’ food and tormenting her, I have a very full schedule,” Bucky replied over his beer. He turned a bit and raised an eyebrow at Steve, wondering if _this_ would be a good time. Steve made a different eyebrow back, one side of his mouth going up into a smile. Satisfied Steve was on board, Bucky turned back to Darcy, leaning onto the table as he smiled at her. “Why don’t you come stay with us, doll? I hate to think of you eating bad Chinese on Christmas.”

Darcy laughed, swirling the straw in her drink, hearing the ice clink against the glass, “Sounds about usual for me.” She laughed again at Bucky’s look of confusion. “I’m Jewish, Barnes. Chinese food? That’s our Christmas _every_ year.”

When Bucky continued to look at her with an eyebrow raised, Darcy realized she hadn’t actually answered his question. She’d loved being with the boys over Thanksgiving, and the idea of hanging out in Jane’s apartment while the TA visited her family in New Mexico wasn’t exactly her favorite way to spend the holidays, but after everything... She just wasn’t sure anymore. “That’s really sweet, but I’m fine staying here. LIke I said, I’ll probably get as many shifts as I can.”

Steve blinked, schooling his expression. He was disappointed, of course, but it had taken her a few tries to agree to coming with them over Thanksgiving, too. He reached out and squeezed her hand, drawing her gaze toward him. “Ma would be heartbroken thinking about you being alone.”

Darcy shrugged her shoulder, pulling her hand back from his and sitting back further between Clint and Jane. “It’s okay. Really. Besides, Jane has all kinds of Harlequin romance novels and I’ve got my eyes set on _all_ of them.”

Jane turned her focus from where her eyes had been tracking Steve’s hand as it’d reached for Darcy, only to return to his lap when Darcy withdrew. Since her best friend’s confession about her feelings toward the two men sitting across from her, Jane had made it a point to pay attention. Her eyes slid back toward Darcy. “I made notes in most of them,” she said, taking another drink of her wine.

“And I love you unendingly for it,” Darcy said, toasting her friend with her drink.

“A toast for us _all_ ,” Sam said as he stood, holding his drink aloft. He waited until everyone was on their feet as well, glasses raised. “To the end of classes and the beginning of winter. To new friends and relationships, and to continued health and happiness.”

“Hear, hear!” Clint said, wrapping his left arm around Natasha’s waist and pulling her closer.

Everyone grinned, clinking glasses and bottles.

“And to Jane and Professor McHottie, who are no longer frowned upon by the school’s ethics board!” Darcy laughed when Jane’s hand slapped at her, laughing harder when everyone cheered it regardless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were several references of MCU and comics thrown in this chapter. Shout them out if you see them! XD


	7. Cold Landscape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys talk over break and decide a dinner with Darcy is just the thing they need. After the dinner, things are revealed that leave questions left unanswered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Vee here, and I'm in the middle of a POLAR VORTEX in Iowa (frigid home of Hawkeyes, both the football team AND the archer) and getting to post this is warming me up nicely! This chapter includes one of my favorite scenes and I'm so happy we get to throw it out there for all you lovely people!
> 
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> 
> As always, thankyouthankyouthankyou for all the comments, kudos, and reblogs over on Tumblr. You all freaking rock!
> 
>  
> 
> <3  
>   
> 

“Mission report: Darcy was _so_ on to us making sure she wasn’t alone,” Clint said, fingers wrapped loosely around his beer. They’d taken up residence in the Barnes’ family den, empty pizza boxes and beer bottles dotting the coffee and side tables as the fire in the grate warmed them. 

School had only been out for a few days, but that’d been enough time that the boys had made plans to get together. Seeing each other daily had been routine since they were children, and it just didn’t feel right for any of them to stay away for too long. Other friends might have come and gone, but their relationships had stayed rock solid since fifth grade, and that hadn’t changed at all.

What _had_ changed was the small list of additions that had been added to the core group; Natasha, with her fiery hair, so graceful, with an uncanny ability to make Clint weak in the knees with just a look. Jane, logical and funny, and _so_ willing to help put the fear of God into all of them when they’d taken things a bit too far.

And _Darcy_. Darcy with her giant heart, and that laugh of hers, and her attention to detail. She’d fit so easily into their group that it felt like she’d always been there. The loyalty she’d been able to pull from them, so strong and fierce, had left the boys puzzling what witchcraft _she_ carried in her blood. That protective pull was exactly why they’d circled their metaphorical wagons after Halloween, watching out for her, making sure _that bastard_ hadn’t been able to lay another finger on her.

“I told you she wouldn’t like it,” Steve said with a sad shake of his head. He’d _known_ Darcy wouldn’t like their personal quest to ‘keep her safe’, easily imaging the fire in her eyes as she reamed them for thinking she couldn't take care of herself. But more than anything, Steve had feared Darcy would be _hurt_ by their overstepping and assumed need of protection. Hurting Darcy was the last thing he wanted to do. They were immeasurably lucky she hadn’t taken it worse than she had.

“You also weren’t particularly inconspicuous,” Sam said, giving Clint a wry grin. “I mean, it’s like you had a black t-shirt with **PRIVATE SECURITY** written across the back.”

“Did any of you actually _see_ him come close to her?” Bucky asked.

“Once,” Sam said with a shrug, “but he didn’t even look her way. He’d just been walking to class.”

“I’d see him from time to time,” Clint added, starting to peel the label from his beer, “but he didn’t do anything. Just another student, blending into the crowds. Walking around with his frat buddies. Like nothing happened.”

Steve frowned softly, watching the anger flash behind Clint’s eyes. It was unspoken knowledge what kind of home environment Clint had grown up in, though he’d never gone into detail, so Steve understood why the domestic violence had seemed to cut deeper for him. All four boys were quiet for a moment, each of them dealing with the heavy feeling that came with the topic of conversation.

Pushing past the tense silence that had descended into the den, Steve sat back on the sofa. “Has anyone else noticed Darcy’s been quiet lately? And kinda... off?” he asked. “Do you think Ward got near her and she just didn’t say anything?”

“Doubtful,” Clint said with a dark shake of his head. Of the four boys, his class schedule had been the most flexible, which meant he’d had the most time to spend with Darcy. He knew the reason for the one-on-one time with her was horrible and infuriating, but he’d be lying if he hadn’t enjoyed getting to know her a bit better. “I kept my eyes open.”

“I’ve noticed it,” Bucky sighed, answering Steve’s first question. “I don’t… maybe she’s actually upset about not spending the holidays with her parents?”

Sam took a long drink of his beer, trying to remember if he’d noticed anything different. “She seemed fine at Thanksgiving. Did something happen between then and now?”

Steve shook his head, “Now that classes are over, you think she’d have _less_ stress, not more.” Whatever the reason, he’d noticed the bright glint in her eye had dimmed slightly. She hadn’t mentioned anything that was causing her trouble, though he knew first hand that she hadn’t been sleeping well. 

“She hasn’t said anything to Natasha,” Clint said. When the three boys turned toward him with raised eyebrows, Clint gave a soft chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. “What? We talk.”

Rolling his eyes at his best friend, Sam leaned forward, setting his empty bottle on the coffee table. “We should have a hang one night. Maybe just getting everyone off campus will help. We could ask her then.”

Clint nodded. “Off campus, dinner with drinks. Drinks that have the little umbrellas she likes. It might help loosen her lips.”

Steve’s hand lashed out and punched Clint in the shoulder. “It’s Darcy, for fucks’ sake. She’s our friend. We can ask and she can tell us if she wants, but if she doesn’t want to talk then we don’t push.”

Clint sighed, holding his hands up in surrender. “I know. I get it. Consequence-free umbrella’d drinks. I’ll get her as many as she wants.”

As Steve seemed to accept Clint’s plan, Bucky rubbed a hand over his face. He was worried about Darcy, and frustrated because he didn’t know what could be causing the distance that had seemed to grow between them after Thanksgiving. He thought he’d gotten good at knowing what was spinning around inside that gorgeous head of hers, and it felt like he was failing as a friend by not being able to puzzle it out yet. 

He reached for Steve’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He smiled softly when Steve looked his way, knowing his boyfriend would see his vexation and understand. “I just hate the idea of her being alone,” he said.

Steve squeezed his hand, certain he shared the same expression he could see on Bucky’s face. “I know. I don’t like it either, but we can’t keep her by our sides forever.”

Thinking on Steve’s words, Bucky wanted to ask _why not_? but thought better of it. He grabbed his bottle and finished it before rising to his feet. “Another round?” 

**Clint:** _I need drinks. Let’s get drinks._  
 **Sam:** _Sure_  
 **Steve:** _I could go for a bite, too_  
 **Clint:** _I never turn down food_  
 **Bucky:** _We know._  
 **Steve:** _Darce?_  
 **Darcy:** _At shelter._  
 **Clint:** _After that_  
 **Darcy:** _Library._  
 **Clint:** _Tomorrow?_  
 **Darcy:** _Library_  
 **Clint:** _Darcy_  
 **Clint:** _Darcy_  
 **Clint:** _Darcy_  
 **Darcy:** _CLINT_  
 **Clint:** _hi_  
 **Darcy:** _BARTON I SWEAR_  
 **Clint:** _tell me when. When works. Anytime. Come on. Don’t make me beg. I look pretty on my knees but I’d rather not. I only debase myself before redhead goddesses. So come on. Dinner. Dinner, Darcy. DINNER._  
 **Darcy:** _FINE_  
 **Darcy:** _Thursday_  
 **Clint:** _Yay!_

Clint had snagged a booth in the back of the Mexican restaurant the whole group loved. It was off-campus, in Hartford proper, and even though it was a work night the place was _packed_. Their margarita and tequila specials were worth the visit alone, but their tortas and pollo loco tacos were the best Clint had ever had. Right before he and Bucky had Ascended, they’d almost run the restaurant out of corn shells, which was no small feat, as they were made in-house. The four of them could still tear into their supply on a regular night, but Clint liked to think the owners had learned from their mistakes and started keeping more on hand.

He waved at Sam and Darcy as their gaze swept through the crowded room. Sam nodded when he saw him, pulling Darcy through the mass of bodies and steaming fajita platters. The corners of Clint’s mouth turned downward at the darkness that dusted along the skin just under Darcy’s eyes. She looked tired, and not in the ‘stayed up way too late last night hanging with friends and drinking’ tired that most college juniors wore. This was something different. “Darcy! Sister of my heart! I am happy you allowed us to bask in your beauty this fine evening.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes at Clint, pretty sure she’d never get used to the way he strung words together, but followed the eyeroll with a smile. She began taking off her layers - coat, scarf, gloves, hat - and cast an exasperated expression in his direction. “Yeah, it was the _strangest_ thing. I kept getting this constant notification on my phone, almost like someone was desperate to see me. It was super annoying.”

“Guilty as charged,” Clint said, patting the seat in the booth next to him. When she slid across the leather, he tucked her into his side, draping an arm over her shoulders, smiling when Sam took a seat across from them. “It’s our holiday vacation! We should be eating all the food and drinking all the drinks.” He punctuated his words by pouring her a glass from the pitcher of margaritas he’d already ordered.

“While I’m pretty sure I could be obscenely plastered and _still_ handle my job at the library, running after cats and dogs while three sheets to the wind? Probably not the best idea.”

“Is anyone here _not_ surprised that you’re the most adultiest adult that ever adulted?” Sam commented, shooting Darcy an amused grin. “I thought I held that title, but it looks like you’ve passed me by far.”

Clint wrapped his fingers around the cactus-shaped stem of his glass and brought it to his mouth, lips pausing at the rim as he raised an eyebrow in his best friend’s direction. “Sam even irons and starches his boxers.”

One of Sam’s dark eyebrows quirked up as he gave Clint a cool, challenging look. “Really, Barton, you want to go there?”

Clint winked before taking a long swig of his drink. “Don’t worry about it, schnookums, I sure don’t mind.”

Darcy smiled behind her own drink, tongue darting out to lick at the salt on the rim. Despite her earlier feigned frustration, she was pleased that Clint had been so insistent on getting her to go out. She’d felt so weird and out of sorts since Thanksgiving, and the morning after Steve’s birthday, and the shelter with Bucky. Since her conversation with Jane, she’d been turning those moments over and over in her mind, trying to figure out what they’d meant, or if they’d meant anything at all. Her best friend was nothing if not logical and level-headed, but Darcy had a much harder time coming up with a course of action. 

Eventually, her thoughts had boiled to a few truths she was certain of. 

_The first_ : she loved the friendship that had grown between her and the boys. All four of them had brought something special to her life, but the bond she’d formed with Steve and Jamie was something deeper. 

_The second_ : Jamie and Steve were in love with each other, and judging by their history, had been for years. The way they looked at each other was like nothing she’d ever seen. True, and honest, and heartbreakingly full of love. 

_The third:_ Over the course of knowing them, she had developed feelings for them both. Her attraction might have started with Steve that first day of class, but Jamie had found a place in her heart too, just as strong. 

_The fourth:_ Whatever feelings she had for them were unrequited and she needed to move on. 

So, Darcy was going to do the only thing she knew how to remedy the situation: hold a piece of herself back, take some space, and attempt to avoid the pain and heartache she knew would be the end result. It was easier for her, though, looking back and forth between Sam and Clint, focusing on the easy camaraderie that she’d always felt with the quartet “I’ll admit, this is way better than the peanut butter and honey sandwiches I was planning on eating later while binge-watching reruns of _The Gilmore Girls_.”

“Ever put mallowcream on there, too? Heaven.”

Darcy turned to look at Clint, eyes wide and surprised, the drink in her hand forgotten. “You are a genius!”

Sam sighed and put his face in his hands. He was _never_ going to hear the end of ‘remember that time Darcy called me a genius!’ He was doomed.

“I don’t know how I feel about you calling Clint a genius,” Steve said with a smile, having maneuvered his way through the dining room full of people, “unless you were referring to food.” He stayed standing as he de-layered, grinning at the table.

Darcy couldn’t help the grin that grew on her face just by looking at Steve, the blue amusement in his eyes making her chest sing with warmth. “That is, indeed, why I was speaking of his genius.”

“Then by all means, carry on.” Steve saw Darcy’s gaze flick over his shoulder, and his lips turned up, knowing who she was looking for. He nodded toward the door, drawing her eyes back to him. “He had to find a parking spot.”

“Ah,” she said, mentally kicking herself for being so obvious. _That_ was exactly why she’d begun keeping her distance. Shaking her inner thoughts away, Darcy put a friendly grin on her face and nodded toward the pitcher on the table when Steve slid in next to Sam. “Clint was kind enough to get our first round,” she said, licking more salt from her rim.

Sam put his arm across the back of the booth and relaxed, keeping an eye on the door so he could wave Bucky back. “So you’ve been raiding Jane’s pantry?”

Darcy gave a surprised laugh. “The woman has a kitchen, an _honest to God_ kitchen, but has absolutely no dishes. No pots or pans to cook in. She’s got a drawer full of plastic silverware, random sauce packets, and paper plates. She keeps books in the cabinets. Books!”

Steve pulled off his hat and scratched his head in confusion. “That’s every bad grad student stereotype right in a cupboard. What, does she also have seventeen types of pop tarts?”

Darcy snorted, pointing to her nose then back to him. “Twenty-one, actually. There’s a reason her name in my phone always has something to do with pop tarts.”

Bucky finally pushed his way through the crowd, his nose and cheeks red from the cold, already shrugging off his black leather jacket. “Gentlemen. Darcy. Glad you could make it, doll,” he leaned into the booth and wrapped an arm around her, squeezing tightly.

His face was cold where it touched her cheek, and Darcy’s face split into a smile. It was a just a hug. She’d gotten the same from Clint and Sam. Just a nice, friendly, innocent hug. “Thanks for thinking of me. I know you guys have family and what not. Isn’t Bekah coming home soon?”

Bucky nodded, sliding into the booth across from her and Clint, filling the space next to Steve. “Yep. She’s already complaining about the cold.”

“How does someone _not_ like snow?” Clint asked with disbelief in his voice, grabbing the pitcher and pouring both Bucky and Steve a glass. He passed the empty pitcher to Darcy to put on the end of the table, knowing the waitstaff would bring out another. “It’s just not right.”

“She’s a warm-blooded creature,” Steve answered with a smile, leaning over to kiss Bucky on the cheek, feeling the chill against his lips. “I think she’s starting to resemble her work a little too much.”

At their kiss, Darcy’s eyes darted down to stare in her drink, purposefully looking anywhere but the couple across from her. She let Clint steer the conversation, making agreeing noises when it was called for, breathing through the flip in her stomach until she could look up at Steve and Jamie and _not_ have pink staining her cheeks..

“You know what would be fun?” Clint started, ignoring the groans that sounded in unison from the four other people at the table. “Hey, now, just hear me out. We could cover Jane’s entire apartment in sticky notes!”

“ _God_ , she’d hate that,” Darcy said, shaking her head at Clint’s idea of a prank. “Mostly because it’d be a waste of such a useful office supply. I can literally hear her voice in my head saying those words exactly. ‘What a waste of perfectly useful office supplies,’” Darcy said, mimicking Jane almost perfectly.

“Clint, why do you want to die?” Sam asked, shaking his head at his best friend. “You’re dating a Russian assassin spider queen, you shoot flaming things for fun, and you want to poke the woman who is going out with a literal Norse god. _Why_?”

Clint just shrugged happily, making grabby hands for the chips and guacamole when they arrived at the table.

“So, what has everyone else been up to?” Darcy asked, feeling better now that she had a margarita and a half in her stomach, the lime beverage helping her get over her initial anxiety. She’d been avoiding texts with the excuse that she‘d been working, which she _had_ , just not as much as she’d made it seem. She’d watched _The Great British Bake Off_ , painted her nails, and rearranged all the magnets on Jane’s fridge. She did laundry, studiously ignoring the small pile of clothes she’d accumulated from Steve and Bucky because, if she washed them, they’d no longer smell like them. 

“I’ve taken a page out of your book,” Sam said, grinning over at her. “Mama and I are volunteering at a soup kitchen on the weekends during break.”

Darcy smiled brightly, sitting up a little straighter. She’d always been a volunteer at heart and if her passions had kindled the same in someone else? She was honored. “Really? That’s awesome! I’d love to come by and help!”

Clint snorted. When Darcy looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, he held his hands up. “Hey, I was just wondering where you’d fit it in. Sounds like you don’t have a lot of of free time lately.” Clint kept his eyes on Darcy but he could see the look on Sam’s face in his peripheral vision, whose expression clearly read _stop pushing_!

“I’d make time for something that important,” Darcy said with a shrug, reaching for her drink. 

Steve’s eyes met Bucky’s, able to see they held the same tinge of hurt at Darcy’s words, quickly looking back down at his drink. For the hundredth time, Steve wondered why she seemed so distant. They’d always talked through texts, sending funny pictures back and forth, just generally talking about their days. But for some reason she’d gone quiet, and it hurt more than he wanted to admit.

 _Not now_ , Bucky thought at Steve, squeezing his hand under the table. He had to force it a little, but he turned back to Darcy with a smile on his face, steering the conversation to a lighter subject.

“Can we give you a lift back to Jane’s?” Bucky asked as they pulled on all the clothes they’d shed on the way into dinner. Darcy had pulled on a tiger print beanie, complete with actual eyes, ears and a nose. It was adorable, and the grin on his face as her wild mane of hair attempted to stay beneath it was genuine.

Darcy had opened her mouth to decline when they pushed through the door and were hit by a gust of icy, bone-chilling wind. “ _Fuck_ me, this is bullshit. Why didn’t I stay in Virginia?” She shivered, weighing her options. Was it such a torture to accept a ride from her friends? No, not when the alternative was freezing to death. “Yes, please,” Darcy answered, ”I am _not_ walking back in this.”

Bucky lifted the collar on his coat, trying to block out as much wind and cold as he could. They had to walk a bit to get to his truck as the parking lot had been packed enough that he’d needed to park on a side street nearby. They rushed, hands stuffed in pockets and heads down against the flurries still falling. When they got near, he darted forward and opened the driver’s door for all of them to pile in.

Steve climbed in first, nose already numb from the cold. He held a hand out to help Darcy in, but she used the steering wheel instead, ignoring his hand completely. He sat back, looking over her head at Bucky as she settled, silently communicating how _wrong_ this felt. He clenched his jaw, turning to look out the passenger window at the black and white landscape.

Sighing internally, hating the look of pain on his boyfriend’s face, Bucky pulled himself in, slamming the door to the cold. It wasn’t much warmer in the cab, but at least the wind wasn’t howling and stealing the air from their lungs anymore. He turned the key, the truck arguing but growling to life a second later. He immediately turned on the heat, but he knew it would take a bit to warm up.

Darcy rubbed her hands up and down her thighs, trying to warm her fingers. “Thanks for the ride. Who knew that margaritas and tacos affected Clint so much? I thought that man’s stomach was made of steel.” 

When Clint had disappeared into the bathroom and hadn’t return after a reasonable amount of time, Sam had offered to check on him. When he’d returned, he’d grabbed both of their coats, saying that Clint was making a mess in the bathroom and that he was going to take him home. It wasn’t the ideal situation for Darcy to find herself in, considering the weight of her thoughts, but there was nothing to do about it now, so she resigned to do her best to keep things light. Light and friendly. 

Bucky nodded at her thanks, lips lifting into a soft smile. “Sure. It’s not a problem.” He gripped the steering wheel with his gloved hands, then watched the windshield clear up, heating much faster than it should have. He glanced over and, in the reflection of the window, Bucky saw a flash of flame fade from Steve’s eyes. The blond continued to look away, lips in a tense line, most of his face hidden in shadows.

Darcy fidgeted with her gloves, reaching up to pull the beanie from her head. She tried to smooth her hair but knew the static electricity had it sticking up all over. She was surprised at the sudden warmth in the truck and untwisted the scarf from around her neck. The silence that had filled the cab was awkward and she spoke, just to erase the pregnant quiet that had settled over them. “I’ve missed hanging out with you two,” she said, going for affable and hoping she hit the mark. “I’m glad Clint badgered me to come out. I know you both have a lot going on.”

Steve reached out to squeeze her knee but hesitated. It wouldn’t have even occurred to him _not_ to do it before, but now? He pulled his hand back and took a deep breath, debating whether this was the best time. They had a fifteen minute ride home, but when the silence drug on long enough that he was itching with pent up tension, he looked over at her, unable to stop himself. “We - I missed you, too,” he breathed. “Did - did we do something? Did we do something wrong?” Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper, and he did what he could to keep his hurt from bleeding into his tone.

Bucky closed his eyes as he felt Darcy turn to look at Steve. Apparently Steve had reached the point where he _had_ to say something. His love had always been incredibly sensitive and he could hear it in Steve’s voice, that careful tremor of pain. Bucky braced himself, not certain how the conversation was going to go.

Darcy’s eyes widened when she turned to look at Steve. “What?”

Steve kept his eyes on his lap, where his hands were twisting and fidgeting, and he picked at the flecks of dried paint under his nails. “It’s just... I know things got weird after Halloween with Ward and everything. I told the guys you’d be pissed about us being around all the time, but we hated the thought of that bastard being anywhere close to you. But Thanksgiving was good, right? Everything seemed great, and then... it didn’t. I’m sorry, for whatever it is that happened, whatever I did. Was it something at the diner? Something I said? Tell me what I did so I can fix it. You’re... you just mean so much, and -”

Darcy shook her head, opening her mouth to say something, _anything_ , to stop the hurt she could hear in Steve’s voice. “No, Steve, _no_ , that’s not it at all.”

Steve turned his face to her, color high on his cheeks, eyes imploring her to explain. “Then what? What’s wrong?”

“I…” Darcy needed to make sure Steve knew it wasn’t him, that he hadn’t done anything _wrong_ , that _they_ hadn’t done anything wrong. The look on his face was breaking her heart, but that was the point, wasn’t it? She didn’t _want_ to see that look on his face. Or Bucky’s. Not because of her. They meant too much to her. “I thought putting some distance… keeping things light... “

Steve watched Darcy stumble over her words, unable to help the frustration and confusion on his face. He didn’t understand. She wanted to keep things light? What did that even _mean_? He looked over her head, trying to see if Bucky had figured out what she meant.

“Why?” Bucky asked, fingers tightening on the wheel, focusing on keeping the truck on the road but also glancing to his right every few seconds. “ _Why_ did you think we need distance?”

“Not you. Not _you_ guys needing distance, but _me_ needing distance.” She’d hoped that her emotions would cool, that once she got over… whatever it was that _this_ was… they’d be able to go back to way it’d been before. Friends, _close_ friends, but without the hunger pangs and stomach butterflies and wondering how soft their lips were. It wasn’t fair to them. 

“Distance from _us_? Did we do something?”

Darcy’s eyes screwed up at the pain in Bucky’s voice, a perfect mirror for the hurt in Steve’s. This was horrible and she could feel the swell of guilt in her belly, eyes beginning to well with tears. “No. It’s not you guys. It’s _me_. I don’t want to hurt you, and I refuse to let my feelings for you ruin our friendship.”

Bucky couldn’t focus on driving _and_ the conversation, so he chose the priority. As soon as he could, he pulled over to the side of the road and threw the truck into park. He turned his entire body toward Darcy and Steve; if this conversation was happening, he didn’t want to just be a spectator. “I promise I’m not being deliberately obtuse, but what the hell are you talking about?”

The focus from Bucky bit up and down Darcy’s shoulders, and she wondered why she’d _ever_ thought being sandwiched between the two of them for the ride home was a good idea. “The two of you are … _you_ ,” she said, gesturing between them, which only made things worse, as she could feel the heat of their bodies on either side of her. “You’re so damn in love with each other, and I’m not going to let some stupid crush come between that! I just needed some time to get over it, that’s all.”

“Our stupid crush could come between us?” Steve looked from Darcy to Bucky, eyebrows knit in confusion.

It took a beat, but realization dawned in Bucky. He blinked, looking out into the snowy night as the pieces fell into place. They were all quiet for a moment, and he listened to the engine of the truck rumbling. It was getting too warm in the cab, fog and condensation starting to coat the windows, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the actual heater, or from the truths being shared. He took a breath then let it out. “No. _Her_ crush, Steve.”

“But that doesn’t -”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Darcy whispered, throwing her hands over her face, the heat in her cheeks burning like lava.

Bucky looked over at Steve while her face was hidden, willing his boyfriend to understand. _She has a crush on one of us._ Bucky’s voice sounded in Steve’s head, slow and deliberate.

Steve stared at Bucky, hearing his words, brain turning them over. His eyebrows raised suddenly as it clicked in his head. _Oh. Oh!_

Darcy leaned forward, the seat belt digging into her stomach as she willed the earth to open up and swallow her whole. She’d hoped saying it aloud would make it better, easier, but now she just felt like throwing up.

“Of course you have feelings for Bucky -” Steve started.

“Damn it,” she whimpered from behind her hands, words muffled. Now that it was out there, the words unable to be taken back despite how much she wanted to rewind time, she didn’t want there to be any confusion any longer, which meant she needed to explain it in its entirety. “It’s _you_ , Steve. At least, it _was_ just you, and then it became _both of you_.”

The silence that fell over the truck was a potent mixture of mind-numbing embarrassment and startled disbelief.

“Oh,” the boys said at the same time.

“Yeah. _Oh_.” Darcy sighed, refusing to look at either of them. She left her eyes closed, leaning her head against the bench seat so the cold glass was at her back, cooling her neck as the embarrassment filled her body with heat. More silence descended in the truck, the only sound the idling of the engine and their breathing. After what seemed like forever, Darcy finally spoke. “Can you take me back to Jane’s now?”

Bucky nodded, then realized she couldn’t see him with her eyes closed. “Yeah, do-” he stopped the word before it finished. Calling her _doll_ felt like second nature, like a habit, but considering what she’d just admitted, he wasn’t sure if he should use the easy nickname. “...Darcy.”

Bucky pushed the truck back into drive, steering onto the road, his fingers gripping the steering wheel. He risked a look at Steve, watching the blond stare out the window, his face a mask of contemplation. Darcy had gone quiet and still at his side, her head back and her eyes closed as if in pain. How had they missed this? How? God. They were idiots. _Blind idiots._

The next few miles passed in silence. Finally, after Darcy was certain she’d scream, needing _some_ type of release for the emotions swirling within her, they pulled to a stop on the street in front of Jane’s complex. There was a second of pause between all of them before Steve’s fingers grabbed the handle and pushed. He slid out of the truck, feet in the small accumulation of snow, holding the door open for Darcy.

She felt dizzy with the amount of blood pumping through her veins, the _whoosh_ of it sounding in her ears. Her chest ached with embarrassment and Darcy wanted to run as quickly as possible, out of the truck, up the stairs, and away from the devastating mess she’d just made. 

She stopped before sliding from the truck completely, the wind whipping her hair against her face. Darcy turned back to look at Bucky, the streetlight casting very little light in the cab, leaving most of his face in darkness. She preferred it that way, because seeing the pity in his eyes would only stop her heart. “I’m sorry, I…” She tried to think of something more to say, trying to find a way to express how their friendship meant everything to her, how she was sorry she was letting her feelings for them ruin things, and how she hoped that saying it aloud hadn’t just torn their relationship to pieces... 

...but the words just wouldn’t come. 

Steve watched her slide from the truck, dark hair flying around her in the wind. She avoided his eyes, keeping her head down as she made for the building. It took him several tries before he was able to say her name, calling after her. “Darcy -”

Darcy turned back to him and the truck, forcing a smile, willing her voice not to quiver. She kept her eyes cast downward, avoiding looking into their faces. “I’ll talk to you guys later. Tell Bekah _‘hi’_ for me, okay?” 

They watched her as she rushed into Jane’s building, waiting until the door had closed behind her, seeing the lights in the apartment flip on. Bucky rested his forehead on the steering wheel while Steve climbed back into the truck, the door shutting loudly, a new type of silence falling over the pair. Bucky reached out for Steve’s hand, twining their fingers, needing the physical comfort.

“Fuck.”

**Darcy:** _Where did you hide your stash of fancy alcohol?_  
**Jane:** _lower middle cabinet by the DW_  
**Darcy:** _k_  
**Jane:** _Something happen?_  
**Darcy:** _tomorrow. now I’ve got a date with Jim, Jack, and their friend the captain._

It’d been easy. The apartment complex Foster lived in was filled mostly by grad students, and most of those grad students left over winter break, heading home to celebrate the holidays with friends and loved ones.

When Ward realized that the apartment below Darcy’s friend’s was empty for the next month, he’d taken advantage of the opportunity it created. It calmed him, knowing she was right there, above his head. As with most apartment complexes on college campuses, it was normal to hear practically everything that went on at your neighbor’s. Can openers. Alarms going off. The TV blasting loudly during explosions. He could hear when she stood at the fridge, knew when she walked from the front room to the bedroom, heard her when she sang off-key while taking a shower.

Between the shelter and the library, Darcy’d spent the majority of the time here. There were times when he didn’t follow her, times when he didn’t _need_ to follow her. When he called the shelter and asked when Ms. Lewis would be in next, saying he was a fellow student and she’d said to call with any questions about his new puppy, they’d readily told him when her upcoming shifts were. The library was even easier, the door leading back to the employee area not even locked.

If there was one thing that could be said about his Darcy, it was that she had a commendable work ethic, and he didn’t _have_ to wonder where she was when she was supposed to be at work. 

Her going out earlier had been unexpected. He hadn’t been ready, so when she’d been picked up by Wilson - he knew all their names, now - he’d been caught off guard. Ward had stayed there, lights off, waiting for her return. The streetlamps were bright enough to see the road through the blinds, so he waited. And as the hours ticked by, he found himself getting more and more angry.

He began considering how he could get a GPS tracker on her phone, so he’d be able to trace where she was. It would be easier. More convenient. He looked up when the headlights of a vehicle flashed as someone pulled up front. Staying in the shadows, he was able to recognize the truck. She’d left with Wilson but here she was. 

With _them_.

Ward’s eyes narrowed as he watched. The blond was the first out of the truck and Ward could immediately tell something was… different. Rogers stood next to the truck, the door open so Darcy could leave. She hesitated, turning to the man behind the wheel. He couldn’t make out what was being said, but he’d always been a good reader of body language. Something was wrong.

Taking a step closer, he squinted, trying to see Barnes’ face in the darkness, but he couldn’t make out his features. Rogers, though… Part of him thrilled at that expression on Rogers’ face. Darcy slid from the truck. Rogers called after her. She kept moving, saying something to them before practically running into the complex.

She was inches away, on the other side of the wall. Ward’s eyes followed her movements as she paused for a second, back against the front door, not moving. Just when he thought he’d cross to look through the peephole at her, she began to climb the stairs to the apartment above. Her heard her key, the opening and shutting of the door. 

The chain lock slid into place. He stood below her, looking up at the ceiling, tracing her steps as she navigated around. Darcy crossed to the fridge, opened it, stood there. He heard her opening and closing cupboards, getting more and more noisy as she did so. She cursed, the words muffled by the floor. There were a few _pings_ from her phone, text messages back and forth.

He heard the TV turn on, heard it flipping through channels restlessly. He laid back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. She was alone, _right there above him_ , and he smiled.

Steve paced the floor in his room. “What the… what the? Bucky. I don’t… “

Bucky watched Steve pace. Pacing was more his thing, but the fact that _Steve_ was doing it meant his boyfriend was very upset. “I know,” he said, still trying to wrap his head about the whole evening. He was turning over every memory of Darcy that he could remember. There were so many, warm and important, and just thinking about them made him smile. 

They played like a movie in his head. The first few times they’d hung out after History, watching bad TV and eating pizza. The four boys and Darcy, working on their project but inevitably getting side tracked. The times she’d laughed with her whole body, the way her skirt billowed around her when they danced at Steve’s birthday. But even before that; seeing her walk into the Mark Twain fundraiser. Part of him stilled at the thought, reminded of whose arm she’d been on that night, but that anger was eaten by the vision of her in that red dress, beautiful and glowing.

It’d never troubled him, admitting she was gorgeous, and he’d said it to her on several occasions. It was just a fact. Darcy was attractive. But looking back, Bucky could feel something… _more_. His heart had broken for her on Halloween, seeing her hurt in any way, watching the tears falling on her cheeks. And he remembered how _right_ the next morning had felt, keeping her safe, pressed between himself and Steve. 

Bucky looked up at Steve, face falling slightly as he remembered the night they’d spent at the shelter after Thanksgiving. The night Steve hadn’t been able to go and it’d been just him and Darcy. The chocolate lab, the bath, the water fight they’d had…

… and how he’d called her beautiful and couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing to her lips ...

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky said, eyes closing in guilt. “This is my fault.”

Steve stopped and stared at Bucky, brow furrowed in confusion. He took a moment to look, really _look_ , at the emotions going over Bucky’s face. Sadness to fondness to irritation to just thinking. “I think I’m going to need a little more explanation.”

“After Thanksgiving, that night I helped at the shelter when you were with Wanda doing your art thing?” Bucky watched Steve nod, then sighed. “There was… we were giving a dog a bath and we were soaked and drenched in shampoo and we fell… I may have…” How the hell was he supposed to tell Steve, his love, his best friend, the only man he’d ever wanted, that he’d been inches and a thought away from kissing her? 

So Bucky didn’t tell him. He _showed_ Steve, replaying the moment in his mind. They _both_ fell to the floor, laughing, looking up at Darcy. Her hair was a mess, wet and curling at her temples. Her nose was crinkled as she giggled. She was pressed against them, t-shirt sticking to her skin, her hands pressed against their chest. They reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and told her she was beautiful when she laughed. They felt the swell of emotion in their chest at the sight, the way her breath hitched and her lips parted.

Bucky felt horrible, stomach turning as he blanked his mind, waiting for the hurt and betrayal to flash across Steve’s face.

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” Steve said softly, moving to press himself against Bucky. The images that Bucky sent made him chuckle. He wouldn’t have been as smooth as Bucky had been in the moment. The feelings, though, those felt more familiar than he realized. “And smart, and thoughtful, and a little amazing.”

Steve took Bucky’s hand and showed him the times he and Darcy had been in the diner together, how he’d felt curled up with her in his bed at Thanksgiving. The way he drew her when he thought no one was looking. The way he drew _them_. “Maybe she might have been getting mixed signals,” Steve sighed, feeling like an idiot. 

Bucky reached up and wrapped his arms around his best friend, pressing his face against Steve’s neck. He took a deep breath, the tumble of emotions - for Steve, and for Darcy - making his chest tight. What were they going to do? What _could_ they do? He was worried. It felt like that night at the house party, the night he and Steve had admitted their feelings toward each other. Bucky was nervous that what he said and did was going to break something, either his relationship with Steve _or_ their relationship with Darcy. 

“Do you... love her?” His voice was calm, not accusatory or judging, as he pulled back to look up at Steve. Bucky’d seen the moments Steve had shared, and he knew how _he_ felt about her, now that he’d allowed himself to analyze his feelings, but Bucky didn’t want to assume. He wanted full truth, however ugly, however messy.

“I... it’s not... It doesn’t feel like what I feel for you, what _we_ have. We’ve had forever, years and years… But... I think I could, “ Steve said slowly, deliberately. “I think I very easily could.” He pulled back, cradling Bucky’s face in his hands and gently lifting his chin so that he could look Bucky in the eye. “I love you. I’ve always loved you, and nothing - _nothing_ \- will ever change that.” Steve searched Bucky’s face. “What about you?”

Once again, Bucky felt the heavy feeling in his chest, his heart beating strong and quick as he looked in Steve’s eyes, so blue, so serious, and drowning in love. What Steve said reassured him, steeled something inside of him. “My whole life, it’s only been you, without question, without hesitation. Just you. All those years.” He paused, waiting until he was sure Steve believed him, _needing_ him to understand.

“And then there’s Darcy, and she’s looking at you like she sees you, like the way _I_ see you, and it was like we’d known her forever, and she’s sweet and kind and makes you laugh, and your cheeks go pink when you look at her, and I know I should feel bad or jealous about it all, but I don’t. Not with her.”

His mind flashed back to the diner after Steve’s birthday, when Steve had pulled Darcy into his arms and Bucky’d watched them so close, pressed together. He didn’t feel possessive, or resentful, he’d just felt… electrified and attracted. “But what does any of it mean? She said that she’s trying to move on. Do we?”

Steve frowned, brain whirring with thought. Did they have to move on? Was there something to move on _from_? “I don’t know, love. I don’t know what to do.” He placed a gentle kiss on Bucky’s forehead, and then pulled him up. “Come to bed with me? I know you need to pick up Bekah in the morning, but I don’t think I can get any sleep without you there.”

Bucky let Steve lead him, brain still tumbling with what happened next. The look on Darcy’s face that night in the cold was burned into his memory. He was worried that they’d unconsciously hurt her, feeling horrible for the sadness in her eyes as she’d run away from them. “Yeah. Can’t be without you either.”


	8. Steady Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bekah and the rest of the women in Steve and Bucky's families take things into their own hands, while Jane does her best to help Darcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> Gosh, I hope you all have your hands flexed and ready to smack Steve and Bucky on the back of their heads while simultaneously prepared to bow down to the Barnes!Rogers women!
> 
> I mean, come on. We love you guys so much. Hopefully you know that!
> 
> *HEART EYES FOR ALL OF YOU*  
> 
> 
>   
> 

Bekah looked at Bucky and Steve curled up on the couch, none of them really watching the Christmas movie playing on the TV, sound low enough to hear the logs popping in the fireplace. They’d been quiet ever since she’d arrived home. She knew her brother could get lost in his own thoughts, but it was the _look_ on Stevie’s face that made her pause. Something had happened, she could tell, and she’d been home long enough that it should have come out already. If they weren’t going to broach the subject, she had _no qualms_ about doing it herself.

“All right, boys, I’ve been home for twenty-four hours. Want to tell me why my favorite Darcy is drunk texting, wishing me Merry Christmas and generally _not being here_? What in the _hell_ is going on, James Buchanan?”

Steve cringed when Bekah gave them The Face. It was just as bad as both of their mother’s, and he was glad it wasn’t solely directed at him.

Bucky looked over at his twin with surprise. He supposed he shouldn’t be too shocked. He knew Darcy and Bekah were talking - hell, Darcy had _all_ of their families in her phone by now - but it was still an abrupt segue from the quiet they’d settled into. The fact the Bekah invoked his middle name meant she was serious. “Bex -”

“Nope. Stop. Simple words. Easy explanation.”

He closed his eyes, squeezing Steve’s shoulder as he sat up straighter. “We questioned why Darcy had been distant for the past month or so. She told us… we think we might have… signals were getting sent and they were confusing for her.”

Bekah raised a dark eyebrow. “Signals? Did you guys fight?”

Steve shook his head, curling into Bucky more, leaving a hand on his boyfriend’s leg. “A fight would have been better, I think. She told us that she has feelings for us, both of us, and that she doesn’t want to get in between us.”

There was a moment of silence. “Okay,” Bekah drew out the last syllable, brain turning over the problem, “and then you did _what_ exactly?”

“Stood there like idiots and watched her go into Jane’s apartment.”

Bekah blinked at Bucky. She, Clint, and Sam had figured out _years_ ago that her brother and Steve were _horrible_ at accepting their feelings, but this was on a whole new level. “For Christ’s sake. The both of you. How do _you_ feel about this? Have you told her? Have you even _talked_ to Darcy since?”

Running a hand over his face, Bucky resisted the urge to growl in frustration. _All he’d thought about_ for the past twenty-four hours was finding a way to fix this. He wasn’t fine keeping the distance that had come between them and Darcy, but he didn’t know how to solve it yet, either. Did they pretend the talk never happened? Walk through their lives knowing they have feelings but never doing anything about it? That sounded like torture. Slow, horrible torture. But what was the alternative? 

“What are we supposed to do, Bex? What on earth do we _say_ to her? How do we fix it? We don’t want to keep hurting her if that’s what we’re doing.”

Bekah sighed, shoulders lifting with the movement. Heaven save her from emotionally stunted boys. It’d taken her brother and Steve _years_ to give into the feelings they had for each other, so she wasn’t exactly surprised that they were floundering here, too. It was maddening, seeing how dense they could be about desires of the hearts. “So you know she likes you. How do _you_ feel about it? About her?”

Bucky sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Fuck. _fuck_ , Bex. I don’t know!” Bucky growled, frustration making his shoulders and neck ache with tension. He stood, pacing in front of the fire, running his hands through his hair. Replaying every memory he had of Darcy was a lesson in obliviousness. How could he have been so blind to everything? His day didn’t feel right if he hadn’t talked with her somehow. Even right now, thinking about her brought warmth to his chest. On the heels of that heat, though, was the icy fear that whatever they had was broken, as he and Steve had ignored her feelings and the signals they’d been sending unintentionally.

… but had it really been unintentionally? He loved making her smile, watching those lips of her turn up. Darcy’s laugh was incredible, and he found himself wanting to be the reason she did it. Somehow her smell - citrus and floral - had become comfortable and put him at ease. Those weren’t unintentional thoughts. Now that he knew how he felt, it was impossible for him to ignore.

Bucky closed his eyes and looked up to the ceiling, feeling helpless. Bekah stood up and made her way to where her twin was vibrating with frustration.

“Hey, hey, Buck,” Steve said as he rose to his feet, trying to soothe Bucky from behind, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s middle, pressing his lips to Bucky’s shoulder. When it came to matters of the heart, Bucky was big gestures. Steve, on the other hand, was more thoughtful, more introspective. He was feeling everything just as strongly as Bucky, but it was all still there, regardless of how it was displayed.

Bekah put her hands on her brother’s shoulders, voice going soft. “I know you two love each other. So much. It’s spanned years, space, and time. An epic kind of love, you know?. For as long as I can remember, it’s been you two. But I’m not _blind_. When she was here… I saw the way you two looked at her. I saw the way she looked at you.”

Bucky and Steve just stared at her, both of them blinking. 

She _tsk_ ’d her tongue, giving them a small shake of her head. “I have eyes in my head. Just because I don’t have all that Power running through my veins doesn’t make me any less powerful. I’m very observant.”

“Bekah -”

“Bex -”

She waved a hand, silencing them. Bekah’d made peace with the fact that she’d never be able to do what her and the other boys could do, but that didn’t mean she’d allow them to think she didn’t have her own magical abilities, regardless of the fact that they were of the more mundane variety. “You each love her. Or are inches away from it. It’s obvious you have feelings for her, the both of you.” She reached out her hand to cup Bucky’s cheek, pressing the other to Steve’s over Bucky’s shoulder. “Your hearts are so big. Isn’t there enough room in there for her, too?”

Bucky loved his sister, and the warmth of her hand quieted him in ways no one else could. For most of his life, she’d been his other half, his twin, the one who’d understood him the best. Then there was Steve, and he’d found that he wasn’t only split in two, he’d been split in three. Then in fifth grade he’d met Sam and Clint and he’d been cleaved again and parts of him were in them, too.

And now? Now he wasn’t sure that other pieces of him weren’t out there walking around that he just hadn’t met yet.

“How would that even work?” Bucky rolled his eyes at the look Bekah through him, like he was an idiot if he hadn’t worked that part out yet. “Not how _it_ would work, you brat. How do we fix this with Darcy?”

Bekah rolled her eyes heavenward and asked for patience and serenity. The Power might flow down the male line, but it was pretty obvious emotional adulting had been passed solely to the females. “First, you should _talk to Darcy_. Get it all out there. Say your peace. The three of you can figure it out from there.”

Steve looked at her blankly, blinking pretty blue eyes that didn’t quite understand what she meant. “What? Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s called _polyamory_ , m’boys.” She sighed, shaking her head for the billionth time due to their oblivousness. “You make it what you want, what all of you want, and forget everything else. Monogamous relationships are a social construct that don’t work for everyone.”

Bucky blinked at her, raising an eyebrow. Bekah was like a sponge, always full of useless trivia and anecdotes that seemed to fit the occasion perfectly, but she was his sister, and getting schooled in maturity by her still made him marvel. He was older, but she was stronger, and he loved her for it.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Jimmy. It’s a thing, a real thing. I read, I hear things. What, you still think I’m still as pure as fresh snow?”

“What the hell are they teaching you about in that California school of yours?” Bucky groused, giving her a smile and a shake of his head. He put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her close, feeling Steve wrap his arms around both of them from behind. He stood there, pressed between his twin and Steve, trying to imagine what _That Conversation_ would look like. He just didn’t know. Bucky pressed a kiss to Bekah’s temple. “And I know you’re not pure. I heard the stories during high school. Punched a few people when they told me.”

“You have no idea,” Bekah said, shooting Steve a wink where Bucky couldn’t see it.

Steve laughed, somehow feeling better; Bekah’d always had the ability to talk them down when it was needed, to help them work through things. She’d been there when he’d struggled with his feelings for Peggy, then the _new and different_ feelings he’d had for Tony. And he suspected, along with Sam and Clint, that she’d known about his feelings for Bucky for forever.

He was glad they hadn’t pushed, that they’d waited patiently for _them_ to figure it out. Steve knew it must have been frustrating, but allowing him and Bucky to navigate it on their own made it stronger, made it more _real_. And that’s what she was suggesting they do with Darcy: figure out what they wanted, then move forward. He wasn’t sure how it would all go, but he felt stronger having Bekah understand. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my darling boys. You’re eedjits, but I love you.” 

Darcy sat on the couch in Jane’s apartment, surrounded by books and plants that looked half-dead from lack of proper care. Darcy had started watering them when she apartment-sat, but she had the sneaking suspicions that her best friend had forgotten about them completely.

She listened to the outgoing ring of the phone at the ear, waiting for an answer, eyes watching the snow come down outside in giant, heavy flakes. It looked peaceful, calm, like a snowglobe made real. Her parents had called to check in when they got to a port, telling her about the dancing they’d done, the other couples they’d met and became friends with, and the amazing food. Darcy was happy for them. Her parents had worked so hard all of their lives, it was nice they were finally getting to relax and binge on themselves a little.

And when they’d asked how she was and she’d lied and said she was fine, she told herself that the lie was for _them_. She didn’t want them to worry, not when they were having a blast on their trip. No, they didn’t need to know how she’d ruined everything because she couldn’t pluck out the feelings that had sprung within her heart like a weed. 

The sound of her phone kept ringing, and just when she thought she’d hear the intro to Jane’s voicemail, she heard a whispered ‘ _hello_?’ as her friend picked up.

“I promise I didn’t eat all our pop tarts,” Darcy said as greeting.

“ _That’s good because I didn’t want to kill you when I got home_ ,” Jane said, louder now that she’d left her family in the living room and retreated to a bedroom so she could hear. “ _How’s tricks_?”

Darcy shrugged, then realized that Jane couldn’t see her. “Tricky. I... I, uh, told Steve and Jamie.”

She heard the intake of air from Jane, and could imagine the look on her face as she peered out into the New Mexico warmth. “ _What happened?_ ”

“Clint convinced me to go out with the boys. He got sick, Sam took him home. Bucky and Steve drove me home.” She paused, eyes shutting at the memory of Steve’s words, whispered and hurt. _Did we do something wrong?_

Jane was quiet on the other end, waiting for Darcy to continue. “ _And_?”

“They asked why I’d been distant. It was… horrible. I wanted to disappear. They were _hurt_ , and sad, and I blurted out that I didn’t want this _thing_ I’m feeling to come between them, or us, and then we were quiet and I ran away as fast I could into your apartment.” The silence was hard and Darcy bit her lip as she waited to see what Jane said, the most logical and reasonable person she knew. 

“ _You haven’t texted or called them? They haven’t talked to you?_ ”

Darcy shook her head, letting her eyes fall closed. “Radio silence.”

“ _But they didn’t look… Mad? Or upset? Or put off?_ ” Jane asked, her voice shifting to her ‘collecting all the data before making a comment’ voice.

“No, not really. Steve just kept asking what he’d done wrong,” Darcy replied, frowning. She sat on the couch, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. “I feel… I think I did the right thing. Telling them, I mean. Being trapped in a car with them after a few margaritas was probably not the best timing. But now they know, and I know they know, and I can just move past it and get back to being friends, right?”

Jane took a breath and Darcy heard her exhale softly. “ _Is that what you_ want?”

Darcy sighed, resting her cheek on her knee. “To get past the awkwardness? Yes.”

She heard Jane’s sound, knew her best friend had just rolled her eyes. “ _That’s not what I meant._ ”

“I know what you meant,” Darcy said.

“ _And?_ ”

“I don’t know, Jane. How are things in New Mexico?”

“ _Don’t change the subject_.”

“I don’t know how to answer you.”

“ _Then maybe that’s what you need to decide_.”

Jane made it sound so easy, but the truth was that Darcy had no idea what came next. What she _wanted_ … wasn’t something she could get. “Easier said than done, Janey.”

“ _I know_ ,” Jane said, empathy in her voice. “ _I’ll be home before New Years. We can paint each other’s nails, drink wine, watch horrible movies…_ ”

“... the polish will last all of five minutes on your fingers before you pick it off,” Darcy said, smiling to herself.

“ _You know me so well,_ ” Jane said, voice warm and sincere. “ _And I know you_ ,” she continued, “ _and I know your heart. And it’s bigger than you think it is._ ”

“If you start talking about it growing three sizes bigger, I promise I’ll throw up.”

She heard Jane laugh softly, imagining her best friend’s expression. “ _I love you, Darcy._ ”

At her words, Darcy’s eyes stung with tears. “I love you, too.”

“ _Text me tomorrow, okay?_ ”

Darcy nodded to the empty apartment. “Okay.”

_All Steve could see was dark hair, and all he could feel were hands on his body. He bit his lower lip to keep from crying out as the tongue on his cock licked him from base to tip, flicking the head as it lost connection. A moan rumbled against his skin as there was a lack of heat for a fraction of a second, but where a mouth had been was replaced with calloused hands, squeezing him as his mouth was captured._

_“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Bucky whispered against his left cheek, tongue licking along the shell of his ear. He felt a mouth, this one on his right side, mirror Bucky’s, teeth softly biting into his ear lobe._

_“_ Gorgeous _,” came the female voice. As if this was normal, Steve turned to capture her lips with his, drinking from her mouth like he’d been thirsty forever and she held the first kiss of rain. As he kissed her, Bucky’s body shifted downward, peppering kisses on his chest, and Steve’s hand grabbed a fistful of hair as Bucky’s tongue traced circles around a nipple, drawing it into his mouth and biting softly._

_When Steve cried out, Bucky looked up and saw Darcy’s mouth on Steve’s shoulder, marking him before she disappeared from his viewpoint. He could feel her, though, taking the same path down the back of Steve’s body as he was down the front._

_Steve reached behind him, his hand trying to find purchase anywhere on Darcy that he could. He rose onto his knees, finally cupping her cheek with his right hand. She drew his thumb into her mouth at the exact second Bucky wrapped his lips around his cock, and the sound that escaped Steve’s mouth echoed off the walls of the room. “_ Fuck _!”  
_

_While Bucky moved up and down over him, Darcy moved from behind Steve’s body to his side. He cupped the swell of her breast, left hand still fisted in Bucky’s hair, his lips capturing Darcy’s._

_It was almost too much for Bucky to handle when he looked up Steve’s body to see Darcy and him kissing, her body pressed against the line of his, naked and beautiful. He hummed around Steve’s cock, earning him another ‘_ Fuck _!’ as Steve broke away from Darcy’s mouth to voice his approval of what Bucky was doing._

_Steve stared down at Bucky with hungry eyes, his breathing labored as he was pushed closer and closer to the precipice. “Don’t stop!”_

_“Never,” Darcy answered, resting her head on Steve’s shoulder as she also watched Bucky work, left hand digging into Steve’s left side, pulling him closer while her right hand joined Steve’s in Bucky’s hair, urging him on, too._

_Steve’s grip tightened the closer he got, their names falling from his lips unbidden. “_ Bucky, Darcy, yes, don’t stop, oh god, don’t stop _!”_

_Lips pressing against Steve’s cheek, Darcy’s hand moved from his hip to his back, fingernails digging in. “Come for us,” she purred against his skin._

_Between her words and Bucky’s mouth, it only took a few seconds before Steve complied with a gasp of “_ yes _!”_

_Darcy kept her lips on his skin as Bucky swallowed, looking up to see Steve’s eyes closed and his head thrown back, lips parted. When he sagged, she caught him and kept him upright as Bucky kissed up his body. She leaned forward, kissing Bucky, tongue lapping._

_Bucky wrapped his arms around the heavily breathing Steve, capturing him between the press of his and Darcy’s bodies. He fed at her lips over Steve’s shoulder, hands reaching out, fingers rubbing over her nipple where it was pressed against Steve’s skin. He pulled back, eyes hooded as he looked at her. “My turn.”_

_With Steve’s help, he was able to lay her back against the bed, hair spread around her head like a dark halo. Bucky settled himself between her thighs, Steve moving up and to her side. While Steve palmed her breasts and kissed her, Bucky reached out and pressed his hand against her sex, fingers teasing. “Fuck, Steve, she’s so wet.”_

_Darcy gasped against Steve’s mouth as Bucky pushed two fingers into her. “Yeah?” Steve asked against her skin, “did you like watching Bucky make me come?” She cried out at something Bucky did with his fingers, her back arching off the bed. “Did you like his mouth on me while you kissed me, while your fingers dug into me?” Darcy was incapable of speech it seemed, so he moved from her face and kissed along the column of her throat before drawing one of her nipples into his mouth._

_Bucky watched Steve’s mouth on her body and couldn’t tease anymore. He shifted, lifting her legs to give him better access and position. He reached out, running a finger against Steve’s lips, the blond’s tongue darting out to taste Darcy as Bucky pushed himself into her, deliciously slow. The three of them cried out in unison._

_“_ Oh god _,” Darcy gasped as Bucky pushed his length into her, Steve’s mouth again finding hers. She threw a hand over her head to grip into the sheets, but Steve caught it first, threading his fingers with hers. He held her hand there, tight and unmoving, an anchor to hold onto while Bucky pushed in and out of her at a steady, easy rhythm._

_“So beautiful,” Steve said, watching the flush in her cheeks and neck, dusting pink onto her chest. His mouth pressed onto the skin of her neck, lips closing and tongue flicking as he sucked. When he pulled back, he could see his mark on the skin. “Mine,” he whispered._

_“_ Ours _,” Bucky growled the correction, moving quicker, rolling his hips as their bodies connected. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room, interrupted only by Steve’s whispers against Darcy’s ear. Bucky wouldn’t have been able to hear normally, but as Steve pressed his lips to her skin, he made it clear in Bucky’s mind what he was saying._

_“I want you to come for us, my mouth on you, Bucky inside. I want you to let go. Let us fuck you until you fall apart. You’re ours and no one else’s. It’s your turn, love. Come for us.”  
_

_Though Steve had been talking to Darcy, the words urged Bucky on as well, the thrusts of his hips starting to become more erratic. He closed his eyes, the sound of Steve in his head and the feel of Darcy around his cock driving his movements._

_Darcy’s hand squeezed Steve’s harder, her other fisting into the bedspread. “_ Close _,” she said through gritted teeth, her eyes on Bucky as he met her body over and over again._

_“Do it,” Steve urged, fingers rolling one of her nipples as he breathed over her skin. “Come for us, Darcy.”_

_Steve’s words, and Bucky’s hips driving into her, sent Darcy careening over the edge. She cried out as her body clenched around his cock, Steve capturing her scream with his mouth. Bucky pumped once, twice, before he followed Darcy, shouting her name as he came._

_She convulsed as wave after wave hit her, Steve’s hand on hers keeping her steady, Bucky’s fingers digging into her hips, his head hung as he relearned how to breathe. “Good,” Steve said against her skin, eyes looking up to catch Bucky’s grey gaze. When Bucky finally opened his eyes to look at him, they both shared a satisfied grin. Bucky leaned down to kiss Steve, his body still sheathed in Darcy, who still had her eyes closed, panting softly. When he moved, she cried out and opened her eyes._

_Darcy took both of their faces in her hands and kissed each of them in turn. Sated, the three of them fell backward onto the bed, a mess of limbs and hair and skin. Letting out a satisfied sigh, Darcy looked toward them with a small smile curling her lips. “What now?”_

Steve cried out as he sat up in the darkness of his room. He felt movement beside him, only to see Bucky gasp and sit up next to him a second later. They were both covered in sweat, breathing heavily, the sheets a mess at their feet. Steve’s eyes were wide as he looked to Bucky, seeing the same look in his lover’s gaze. They blinked at each other, panting, not sure what to say. 

Bucky broke the silence.

“ _Fuck_.”

  
**Bekah:** _Those boys. THOSE BOYS._  
**Ma Rogers:** _What now? Besides the fact they think I don’t know what they’re doing in Steve’s room._  
**Bekah:** _Really? Is the obliviousness contagious?_  
**Ma:** _Not to my knowledge._  
**Bekah:** _Darcy told them she has Feelings for them, and now they’re hiding and wringing their hands like old church ladies_  
**Ma:** _I am a church lady_  
**Bekah:** _Note I said *old*_  
**Ma:** _Those Boys. THOSE BOYS. What are we going to do_  
**Ma:** _Wait. Darcy’s here for Christmas, yes? In town?_  
**Bekah:** _Yep._  
**Ma:** _I’ll take care of it_  
**Bekah:** _Knew you would. You’re the best_

**Sarah:** _so we’re set for you to come for christmas then, yes?_  
 **Winnie:** _yep, 4 sure_  
 **Sarah:** _just type out the whole bloody word. Dammit_  
 **Winnie:** _ur no fun_  
 **Sarah:** _I am so much fun it’s painful. Bekah knows, but don’t tell the boys I’m going to get Darcy to come to dinner. It’ll be good for all of them_  
 **Winnie:** _ur my bff_  
 **Winnie:** _don’t want 2 push them_  
 **Sarah:** _hush. Just bring the sauce, all right?_  
 **Winnie:** _will do. xoxo_

Darcy knew she should be doing something, but it was Christmas Eve eve, and no one was going to be coming to the shelter. The pups had been let out, their dinners settling nicely in their bellies, and their cages were quiet. The cats were much the same, but they were as quiet as cats could ever be. Everyone was happy, full, and resting. No one had come in over the last two hours and she’d sent everyone else home. People were too busy getting last minute gifts to stop at the shelter, but she was keeping her eyes open for people who thought a surprise puppy would make a great gift.

News flash: _No, it wouldn’t._

She was on her sixth round of solitaire when the bell rang over the door.

Her eyes flicked up, expecting the worst, but was _shocked_ by who pushed into the shelter. “Welcome to - Ma?” Darcy jumped to her feet, watching as Steve’s mom took a step further into the office, her blue gaze sharp and so much like Steve’s that it froze her heart. “What... what’re you doing here?”

Sarah’s gaze swept across the room. There was a small desk, which Darcy was standing behind, looking at her with those large, beautiful doe eyes of hers. There were a few rabbits, one cage housing a ferret, and a wide variety of leashes and other necessities for sale. Sarah could just hear the yips and meows that promised furry little bodies hidden behind the doors to the shelter proper.

She looked back to Darcy with a smirk, happy the element of surprise was on her side. “You’ll catch a fly if you leave your mouth open like that, dearie.”

Darcy attempted to set her phone down but it slipped out of her hands, clattering heavily onto the desk. Cheeks heating, her nerves on edge at the smirk on Sarah’s face, she circled the desk and made her way toward the blonde. “Did you... need something? Looking for a dog?”

Sarah laughed. It wasn’t a bad idea, really, and they had plenty of room for it, but no. She was hunting for a different quarry this evening. “No, not tonight. I’m not home enough for a pup, even if it would make the house feel a little less quiet. I just needed to talk to you, dear. Did you want to sit down?”

“Uh, sure? I’m the only person here right now, so if anyone else comes in, I’ll need to help them, but… yeah. Is something wrong?” Darcy’s face fell, worry filling her widened eyes a second later. “Oh my god, did something happen? Are Steve and Jamie alright?” 

“Oh, dear, yes, yes the boys are fine. Perfectly fine. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything bad had happened.” She watched relief fill Darcy’s eyes as she sagged back against the desk, color filling her cheeks again as she pressed a hand to her chest, no doubt to stop her heart from racing.

“I know you’re all by yourself these holidays,” Sarah continued when she thought Darcy had caught her breath, “and I know Christmas normally means Chinese and _The Maltese Falcon_ for you and your family, but it’s just me and my Stevie at Christmas, and it would make me so _so_ happy to have you for dinner tomorrow night.” 

Darcy blinked at Sarah. Steve’s mother’s eyes were filled with kindness, warmth, and a little thread of hope. 

Ma had been amazing the entire time she’d been there at Thanksgiving, making her feel welcome and like a part of their family, and before that she’d helped Darcy find the perfect picture for Steve’s birthday present. Not to mention how she’d given her strength on Halloween, eyes tender and worried after all the ugliness with Ward. Could Darcy say no to her? Did she have the _strength_ to say no to her? Darcy wasn’t sure, but she was going to try. “That’s very sweet, Ma, really, but -”

“Darcy, dear, I don’t want to argue. I think we both know how this will inevitably end.” Sarah’s face was serene, peaceful, but her eyes held a spark that meant she was more than willing if Darcy tried to argue her point. And that, _were_ they to argue, she’d win.

Darcy knew arguing with Sarah was futile. The older woman could be very stubborn when it came to getting her way, or so Darcy’d found out. The fact that she was _not so subtly_ being manipulated by the older woman didn’t really matter; it was already out there in the universe and Darcy just needed to accept it. Future awkwardness and embarrassment was nothing when compared to the fiery Irish woman staring her down, waiting for Darcy to break under the pressure. 

“I’d love to come to your holiday dinner, Ma,” Darcy finally said with a soft sigh. “What time would you like me, and can I bring anything?”

Sarah reached out and patted Darcy’s cheek. “No dear, you just bring your lovely self. We eat early, so I’ll see you at half past four?”

Darcy nodded, resigned to her fate. “I’ll be there.”

“Wonderful!” Sarah beamed, looking so much like Steve that Darcy’s heart dropped somewhere near her stomach. She turned to walk away then thought better of it, rounding back toward Darcy. “Oh, and you’ll probably want an overnight bag, dear. Just a whiff of my eggnog will have you blowing over the legal limit.” 

Looking down at her watch, not giving her a chance to argue, Sarah gave Darcy a quick peck on the cheek then made her way toward the door. “I’ve got to pick up the roast from the butcher, so I’m off. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, love.”

“See you then, Ma.”

The door swung shut behind her, and Darcy felt like she’d been run over by a semi truck as she blinked at the space Sarah Rogers had just been standing. After a few moments, Darcy grabbed her phone from where she’d dropped it, hit the third name on her favorites list, and listened as it rang.

“ _Hello?_ ”

“Janey. How in the fluffy depths of hell did I just get conned into going to Christmas dinner at Steve’s?”


	9. Warm Holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy experiences Christmas Eve with the Rogers/Barnes household!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> And so begins three full chapters of Christmas fun!  
> These scenes are some of our favorites and we can't wait to share them with you!  
> Are you a 'found family' fan? We've got you!  
> Do you love tipsy people and the emotional vomit that comes with it? Step right up!  
> Does the thought of matching pajamas make you smile? WELL YOU'RE IN LUCK!  
> <3  
> As always, that you all so much for the response to what we've put out. It fills us with warm fuzzies!  
>   
> 
> 
>   
> 

Dressy (not _too_ dressy) but comfortable holiday ensemble?

Check.

Crock-pot of Bubbe’s gluwein recipe?

Check.

Makeup and hair?

On point. (Fleek was never happening, Clint. Just stop.)

Overnight bag that _would not be used_ , despite what Sarah Rogers threatened?

Check.

Frayed nerves and stomach flipping enough that she wanted to barf?

Hells. Yes.

Darcy sighed one more time before letting the cabbie help her out of the car at Steve’s front door. The drive and front walk were clear of snow, and there were small lights twinkling in the shrubbery around the home and in the windows. There was a huge fresh wreath on the door and Darcy breathed in the sharp pine and cinnamon scent as she pressed her finger to the door bell.

She could hear people moving on the other side of the door. She hadn’t even thought to ask who all would be there for dinner. Sarah’d mentioned it would be just her and Steve, but Darcy was starting to suspect that maybe it wouldn’t been as intimate an occasion as she’d been expecting. Would that be easier for her, having other people to talk to, to distract her from the mortifying embarrassment she’d been feeling since she’d confessed it all in Bucky’s truck? Probably. Maybe. She didn’t fucking know.

“Who’s that?” Bucky asked, taking another small sip of Ma Rogers’ nog. He knew better than to drink more that a sip at a time. The stuff was delicious but could probably clean rust off a car with little to no trouble.

Bekah shrugged her shoulders, turning back to the conversation she was having with Steve. Her eyes darted to her brother when he walked toward the front door, unable to help the small smirk that turned her lips.

The warm air from inside fanned Darcy’s hair around her face as the door opened. Bucky stood in the doorway, the light from inside casting a glow around him. He had a mug of something clutched in his hand and he looked at her like he’d been struck dumb, surprise making his eyebrows rise.

_Nope. not just Sarah and Steve. Damn it all._

“Hi, Jamie.” 

She watched as Bucky’s mouth stretched into a huge grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The slate-colored sweater he was wearing looked soft, and his dark jeans were worn at the knees. If she hadn’t been knocked at just the sight of him, she’d have laughed at the ridiculous Grinch socks he had on his feet.

Bucky’s heart had stopped when he’d opened the door and found Darcy waiting there, bag on the ground beside her, a pot clutched in her hands. Other than grinning like an idiot, he stilled for a moment, words stuck in his throat. Realizing he’d been staring for too long, he took in a breath, pushing past his surprise. “Darcy doll. Merry Christmas,” he finally said, pulling the door the rest of the way open and taking the bag she had put down next to her. “Come in and warm up.”

Darcy followed him into the familiar foyer, looking around at all the holly, and velvet bows, and Nutcrackers. It was like something straight out of the pages of Martha Stewart magazine, but better. More welcoming. More _warm_. It fit perfectly with Sarah Rogers, and Darcy didn’t mind taking it all in slowly and happily.

Bucky wasn’t able to do much but smile at Darcy as she took in the entrance room and it's Christmas decorations, still stunned by her sudden presence. To give him a free hand, he downed the rest of the nog in his cup before taking her coat and draping it over the bannister. He grabbed the crockpot from her hands, empty cup hanging from a finger, before leading her into the front room where everyone was gathered.

“Who was it, Jimmy?” Bekah called, knowing damn well who it was and her voice making it known. Darcy smiled as she walked into the living room, giving a little wave at everyone when they turned to look at her. Bekah jumped from the couch before crossing the floor and throwing her arms around Darcy’s shoulders. “Darcy! I’m so happy you could make it!”

Returning the hug, Darcy squeezed hard. She’d texted Bekah frequently over the last couple of weeks, finding that Bucky’s twin was smart, and kind, and always knew what to say to make her feel better. She’d missed her since Thanksgiving, despite only knowing her for a month or so. “Me too,” she said, leaving a kiss on Bekah’s cheek as she pulled back, thumb brushing at the redness her lipstick had left behind. “Glad you braved the snow and cold.”

“No way I’d miss having some of Ma’s nog. I’ll get you a glass.” Bekah darted out of the room, throwing her brother a smirk as she went by. He caught the look on her face and narrowed his eyes at her as she disappeared.

Sarah crossed paths with Bekah in the hallway, calling something out over her shoulder, wearing an honest to goodness frilly apron while pulling a laughing Steve behind her. He was holding a tray of cheese, fruit, and meat, and he almost ran into his mother’s back when she stopped, crying out in glee when her eyes landed on Darcy. “Oh, my girl! I’m so glad you decided to come! Look who’s here, son,” she said.

Darcy gave Sarah A Look. _You are so full of shit_ , she thought before hugging the slight woman tightly. Sarah grinned as she pulled back, patting Darcy on the cheek. Sarah smelled like yeast and cinnamon from the kitchen, and Darcy took in a deep breath of it. Her gaze swung behind the older woman, landing on Steve. “Hi,” she said, waving her fingers slightly.

Steve’s face went from confusion to joy, lighting up like the proverbial Christmas tree when his mind caught up with who was standing in front of him. “You’re here. Like, _here_ here.”

Darcy had tried to prepare herself for the awkwardness of showing up, but this was something different. She’d been _so sure_ things would be tense that she’d been unable to eat anything all day. She definitely hadn’t been expecting the happiness in Steve’s eyes when he looked at her. “Seems so. Merry Christmas, Steve.” 

Steve set the tray he’d been carrying on the coffee table in one smooth motion before he turned and stalked toward Darcy, a look of quiet determination on his face. She let out an _oof_ as his arms wrapped around her, squeezing, his face settling in her hair.

Darcy hugged him back, her feet barely touching the floor, the toes of her boots just scraping the hardwood. She’d tensed at his approach, her breath stopping as he’d neared, but when she’d felt the strength in his arms and his breath warm on her neck, she relaxed into the hug, squeezing him back. 

“Missed you,” Steve said from somewhere in her hair, honesty in his voice.

“Missed you, too,” Darcy breathed, eyes closing. He smelled like woodsmoke and cookies, and she could feel the tension in her stomach begin to release.

“May I get some of this Christmas spirit, too?” Bucky asked from beside Steve, tone hopeful.

Darcy nodded and Bucky took Steve’s place. She tucked her head into his collarbone, absently noting how it still fit perfectly. She breathed in deeply, smelling his cologne on the sweater that really was, as she’d suspected, as soft as it looked. His arms came around her gently, but firm, carefully holding her like she was a wisp of smoke, too easily blown away.

“Hi,” Darcy murmured into his chest, cheeks warming. Her eyes fell closed, taking comfort in the fact that they’d wanted to touch her at all. Was it possible she’d over thought _everything_? They knew she had feelings for them now, but it didn’t feel like they were put off or upset. Now that it was in the open, would they all be able to move past it? She hoped so. She _really_ hoped so. 

“Hey, there,” Bucky replied, just as softly, cheek pressed to the curls at the the top of her head. He shared a look with Steve, heavy with meaning and contentment at having her here with them.

“Well, don’t be hogging the girl!” Laughing, Bucky let Darcy go as his mother approached, fingers outstretched and wiggling. “Come give me some sugar, sugar,” Winnie called as she pulled Darcy into a hug, squeezing her even harder than Steve or Bucky had. “What a surprise!”

Darcy snorted, realizing full well that she’d been triple-teamed by the women in the family, but unable to feel angry about it. “Yeah, I bet. A _big_ surprise.” Winnie just smiled That Smile, the one all the Barnes’ seemed to have, and Darcy couldn’t help but smile back. “Thanks for inviting me,” she said, feeling warm from all the people she’d been hugging. 

“Oh, _I_ had no idea you’d be here. Sarah can be _such_ a sneak sometimes, can’t she?” Winnie feigned with a wink.

“Mmmhmmm,” Darcy hummed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She held out her hands when Bekah appeared with a mug full of nog. Darcy had been warned about Sarah’s eggnog, and since she was already planning on going home at some point that night (despite whatever the Rogers matriarch had planned), she would only have one mug. _One_ mug wouldn’t be that bad. 

She took a drink experimentally, the alcohol hitting her tongue and the back of her throat. She coughed, eyes wide, watching as Bekah and Winnie both laughed at her expression. It was strong, yes, but it was tasty. A very bad combination. “Wow, that’s…”

“Yes it is,” Steve said, coming up and grinning brightly. He looked over Darcy’s shoulder and caught eyes with Bucky. _She came. She’s here._

Bucky grinned at his boyfriend, who was almost bouncing on his toes in happiness. He felt a swell of emotion, from knowing Darcy had come at all, and from seeing the happy effect it had on Steve. _Yeah. She’s here._

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to help?” Darcy asked as she trailed Steve, watching as he brought tray after tray of food to the sideboard. There was roast, two different kinds of potatoes, green beans, and some kind of German something done to veggies that smelled _amazing_.

Steve shook his head, smile on his face as Darcy stood by his side. “Ma will have my hide if you lift a finger to do anything but eat.” He placed the bowl he was carrying down on the table, before standing back and taking a look at the picture the room made.

They didn’t use the formal dining room unless there were going to be more than four or five people eating, which meant the Rogers’ usually ate at the smaller table in the kitchen. For Christmas, though, they went all out; the dark table was covered with candles, tall red ones in glass vases, smaller tea lights sprinkled around, even smaller vases filled with Ma’s hothouse roses and pine needles. 

Each place setting had a silver goblet shining in the flickering light, with Waterford crystal glasses that Ma and Dad Rogers had brought back from their honeymoon in Ireland. Darcy was a little terrified she was going to drop and break one, though that fear extended to _anything_ on the table. So many pretty, fragile things.

Everyone else flowed into the room, Sarah having to herd them from the study where a rowdy game of Uno had been going. Steve held out Darcy’s chair for her, smile still large and bright, and she couldn’t help but smile back. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Of course,” he said as he slipped into his seat beside her. Bucky held his mother’s chair out for her, and then his sister’s, tugging Bekah’s hair lightly and earning a soft glare of annoyance.

Rolling her eyes, Bekah turned toward Darcy, eyes widening as well. “I’m still not used to sitting with the grownups,” she said in a mock whisper, looking up at Darcy with a smile, “Ma always makes the table so beautiful, doesn’t she?”

“I was wondering if this was an ‘Every Christmas’ thing, or if this year was special for some reason,” Darcy said, reaching for her napkin. She pulled off the ring and inspected it, a soft gasp falling past her lips; the ring itself was gold, but there was a white gold snowflake in the middle of the ring, made from Celtic knots and Claddagh hands. It was beautiful.

“Could Ma get any more stereotypically Irish?”

“It’s gorgeous,” Darcy said, glancing over at Steve with a smile on her lips. She’d never had a Christmas dinner like this. Usually her family would find an open restaurant on Christmas Eve and order enough food so they’d have leftovers the next day. This sure as hell beat leftover Chinese. “Much, _much_ better than Mr. Chou’s back in Virginia.”

“What kind of things did you do over Hanukkah?” Bucky asked, rounding the table so he could take the seat on the other side of Darcy.

Darcy shrugged, taking a quick drink of her water. “We’d have latkes and torzellli. Sometimes my mom would make _sufganiyot_ , but that was only if she was feeling fancy.”

Bekah grinned at her from across the table. “That sounds delicious. Do you get together with family?”

“Usually my aunt would come over, but it’s just the four of us. Pajamas all day, horrible black and white movies from the forties playing while I beat my dad at cribbage. Light the menorah, open small gifts. We stopped spinning the dreidel, but I’m always on the lookout for little trinkets to give family. We don’t do too much.”

“And they’re on their anniversary cruise?” Winnie asked. When Darcy nodded, she held up her glass of nog. “Well, here’s to their safe travels.”

“And to being able to have you join the family here,” Sarah added.

Darcy held up her own nog as everyone at the table did as well. She could have _sworn_ she’d finished her one mug of nog, but there was still half a cup left. She shrugged and took a drink, the burning taste on her tongue soothed by the flavor of cinnamon and nutmeg.

As it turned out, George Barnes was a quiet man _until_ he sat behind a piano. He’d placed a glass of untouched scotch on the top of the instrument (“For Joey,” he’d explained, eyes wet and bright), and after several glasses of Darcy’s gluwein, he’d started prodding them all to sing along with him.

“Since this is Darcy’s first Christmas with us, she gets to choose the opening for the evening. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have to be anything Christmas related,” George said, winking at her. Darcy had a moment where she could see exactly how Bucky would look in thirty years and her stomach fluttered.

“I feel like _Baby Got Back_ is rather festive,” Darcy joked from behind her glass of sparkling water. She almost spit it out when George - _‘call me George, no, really, dollface’_ \- starting tinking out the beat with his left hand and Winnie went to stand beside him, hips moving. “Oh, God! No, I was just kidding!”

Bucky rolled his eyes at his parents, used to their antics, catching the same eyeroll on his sister’s face. “Look what you started now,” he said with feigned exasperation toward Darcy. She was still laughing, hiding her smile behind her glass, nose crinkled and cheeks bright. His lips turned upward in a smile just looking at her.

“Sorry! I was put on the spot and I don’t do well with improv,” Darcy tried to explain, looking sheepishly at Bucky. “I don’t really know many songs. The only one I really know and _loathe_ is ‘Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time’. When I was in high school I volunteered as an Elf in the mall and they played the song on repeat, over and over and over again. I ended up wearing earplugs to drown it out.”

Steve grinned at her, trying to imagine her dressed up. “You were an elf?” 

His voice was light, happy, and Darcy found it hard not to match his smile with one of her own. “I was saving up for college,” she said with a shrug. 

“Did you have to wear little ears and bells on your shoes?” Bucky asked, “and are there pictures of this?”

She gave Bucky a playful glare, kicking herself for bringing it up in the first place. “Yes I did, and no, there aren’t. I made my mom destroy them all.”

“It’s adorable that you believe she’d get rid of all of them,” Sarah said with a smile, refilling Darcy’s glass. “Mothers never get rid of _everything_. It might be needed as leverage at some point in the future.”

“The internet is forever,” Bucky said, shooting That Smirk in Darcy’s direction.

“Yeah,” Darcy said, eyes narrowing dangerously, “and so’s your search history.”

Laughing along with everyone else, Darcy asked George to play _his_ favorite, which he did. His voice was low, but clear and warm, and her eyes lit in surprise. She was impressed when Winnie and Bekah started in on the harmony, this obviously not being the first time the family had sung together. Darcy had to keep herself from jumping when Steve and Bucky joined the chorus, in lovely baritone and tenor, respectively.

“Don’t worry, dearie. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, but it’s awful pretty to listen to, isn’t it?” Sarah said as she wrapped an arm around Darcy’s waist, joining her as they watched the rest of them sing.

“Ma, are you sure? I could drive you,” Steve offered from where he was holding his mother’s coat for her to step into.

“Steven, I can certainly drive myself to and from Mass. You go on back in and keep James and Darcy company,” Sarah replied, pulling on her gloves. “Good night, lovies. I’ll see you in the morning, Darcy!” she called as the door shut behind her.

Darcy waved, cheeks and body warm from the nog and the wine and the singing, and warm sweaters that were so soft against her skin. She wasn’t drunk - well, wasn’t _too_ drunk - but she felt floaty and happy. She sat next to Bekah, legs curled under herself, watching the flames lick in the fireplace. 

She had no plans to stay the night, though she’d brought a bag for Ma Rogers’ sake, and her presents for Steve and Jamie were hidden away. She’d give them right before she left, avoiding any awkwardness. She had a plan, and she was going to stick to the plan. The plan was good and made it so no one got hurt. It was a _good_ plan.

“Your dad is quite the piano player,” Darcy said to Bekah, head lolling onto the back of the sofa as she turned toward the brunette, “has he always played?”

“Uh huh,” Bekah said. “He tried to teach us, too, but it didn’t stick.” She wriggled long fingers in front of Darcy’s face. She had on gold polish, and a stone on her right hand caught the light, catching and holding Darcy’s attention longer than it should have. _Okay, maybe too much nog._

“M’glad you’re here,” Bekah said, blinking slowly at Darcy. “Best Christmas ever.”

“No more eggnog for you, Bekah,” Steve said warmly from the floor. It was closer to the fire, and his stomach was still so full that he was on the edge of a carbohydrate coma. “You’re going to start telling everyone you love them, and then get maudlin when you realize you have to go to bed. Happens every year.”

“Shut your face, Rogers, or nothing from the land of sunshine and lizards for you.”

Darcy grinned, letting her eyes fall closed. She felt better than she had in weeks, full of delicious food and having spent the night in great company, and for a moment it was easy to forget everything else that had happened, all the awkwardness and embarrassment that kept pinging into her mind when she started thinking too hard. She was in a haze of blissful denial, aided by the nog and wine, and she allowed herself a minute or two of peace, without intrusive thoughts or self-doubt.

Bucky sat in the chair next to Steve, the blond’s cheek resting on his knee, Bucky’s fingers slowly combing through Steve’s hair. His parents had left a little while ago, with promises of pastries and eggs in the morning, and presents in front of the tree. Bucky looked at Darcy. Her eyes were closed, a serene look on her face as she enjoyed the warmth from the fire, mug of nog balanced on her knee. He looked without fear of her catching him, eyes pouring over the gorgeous green sweater dress, the silver drop necklace that sparkled, the bright red polish on her toes that flashed in the firelight.

 _Look at her,_ Bucky thought at Steve. 

Steve turned from the fire to Darcy, blue gaze steady. His fingers ached to draw her, calm and peaceful, no stress in the line of her shoulders or neck. Her lashes looked impossibly dark against the pink of her cheeks and he wondered if the red stain on her lips would come off if she was kissed.

“We can make a bedroom for you upstairs,” Steve said, voice calm and warm with happiness. His mother had commanded that _no one_ was to leave until tomorrow, no matter what, and he wondered how much of a fight he’d have if Darcy tried to argue. He didn’t want Darcy to leave, and he didn’t want to argue. He just wanted to enjoy her company, for as long as possible.

Darcy’s eyes opened, looking at the picture Steve and Bucky made. The fire was painting their skin in oranges and yellows, Steve’s hair like flames and Bucky’s like shadows. They were both looking at her, Bucky’s eyes matching the grey sweater he wore, and Steve’s the color of the sky on a clear sunny day, warm with the promise of spring. Her breath hitched and she reasoned it was because the drinks she’d had, but she knew, deep down, it was because these men had taken up the majority of her waking thoughts. And most of her unwaking ones, as well.

A small thread of fear thrummed through her stomach. _This_ is what she was afraid of, why she’d been hesitant to come in the first place; it was hard to look at them and not feel her stomach spin, dizzy with the tumble of emotions they created in her. “That’s okay. When I can move again I’ll call an uber to come grab me.”

“It’d be no trouble,” Bucky said, voice light. He didn’t want to push, but he felt almost desperate in his desire for Darcy to stay.

“I know, but it’ll -”

“No,” Bekah said, force in her voice as she sat up a little straighter..

Steve grinned, turning his face to look at the flames in the grate so Darcy wouldn’t see his expression. He knew that voice very well, and he was glad he wasn’t the focus of Bekah’s upcoming lecture.

“Really, it’s -”

“Look here, Darcy -” Bekah stopped abruptly and turned to Bucky. “What’s her middle name?”

“Anne,” he and Steve supplied in unison.

Bekah turned her fiery eyes back to Darcy without missing a beat. “Look here, Darcy Anne: you are spending the holidays with our family. That doesn’t involve Uber rides home in the middle of the night. It involves pajamas and trees and opening gifts in the morning. So you’re going to stay here with us and I won’t take no for an answer.”

Darcy blinked at the finality in Bekah’s tone. She had a plan, damn it. It wasn’t like she _wanted_ to go home and be alone at Jane’s, missing her parents and best friend, eating leftover Chinese. But it was hard to be around Steve and Jamie and keep her wants off her face and out of her eyes. They were both looking at her with hopeful expressions on their faces, and she could see the same expression, though a little more stubborn, on Bekah’s face. “God damnit. All three of you.”

“Just give in, I really don’t want to fight you. Besides, it’s the smart, _adult_ thing to do.” Bekah said the words as if they were gospel, and she finished the rest of her nog as she kept her eyes on Darcy, daring her to disagree.

Darcy sighed. Bucky’s sister was so cute and compact that you wouldn’t imagine that there was a devious little spider monkey living inside of her. “Fine. Yes. Make me up a room.”

“No need! You’ll stay with me! I’ll get us more nog!”

“Bex -” Bucky’s words died on his lips as Bekah ignored him and bounced toward the kitchen, only looking unsteady for one second before she disappeared. He rose an eyebrow and looked down at Steve. “She shouldn’t have more nog.”

Steve grinned up at his boyfriend. “She might pass out sooner than expected.”

“Or we’ll see her matching undies set,” Darcy theorized, accepting her new mug of nog when Bekah returned with it. She wondered if Sarah put some kind of magic in it. Maybe that’s what it was. Magic. Magical alcohol that made her a pushover. She glanced over at the boys, chest warming at the happy tilts to their lips now that she was staying.

“Oh! Did your ma and dad...?” Steve said, sitting up a bit straighter as he looked to Bucky.

“I’m sure Ma,” Bucky replied.

“Left by the front hall,” Bekah finished.

“That was fucking creepy,” Darcy said, eyes bouncing between the three of them. None of what they’d said counted as full sentences, but they’d all known exactly what the others were talking about. It was like talking in emojis, or shorthand. She pulled the mug from her lips and glared at it like it’d offended her. “Okay, I am not _that_ toasted.”

Bucky had already sprung to his feet and disappeared down the hallway, quickly returning with four brightly colored bags. He passed them out before taking his seat again. He looked up at Darcy and nodded, a grin on his face. “You go first, Darce.”

Confused, and just a little bit wary, Darcy pulled the tissue paper out of the bag and reached in, her hands coming out with soft flannel. She moved the bag to the floor, and shook open the fabric. The pajamas were a ridiculously soft set of pants and a button-down top, the pattern covered in flying books and literary words. When she looked closer, she could see her name embroidered on the collar. “What in the world?”

“Ma makes everyone pajamas for Christmas morning,” Bekah and Bucky said at the same time.

Darcy blinked in disbelief, fingers running over the soft fabric. She’d only been around Jamie and Steve’s family a handful of times, yet they all just seemed to have accepted her. It was incredible and she was surprised by the well of emotion in her chest at the thought. “How…”

“She can just look at someone and know their measurements. People don’t always appreciate it,” Bucky explained, smiling at the look on Darcy’s face. It was soft, full of wonder, and something else he couldn’t decipher.

Somehow Winifred knew how important the library was to her, and she’d made her _pajamas_? “This is too much,” Darcy said, frowning softly. 

“Nope. No. No. Nope.” Bekah leaned over and pressed a finger to Darcy’s lips, shushing her until she was silent. “Jus’ let it happen. We love you, and my parents love you, and everyone loves you and so you get jammies just like Every. Body. Else.” Darcy blinked as Bekah’s finger moved from her lips and pressed against her nose. “ _Boop_.”

Steve reached out and pulled the mug that’d been on the edge of spilling from Bekah’s hands, handing it up to Bucky to set on the table before there was nog all over the rug. “Why don’t you take Bekah up, and get her settled for the night?” he asked softly, gaze sliding to Darcy. “We’ll be just down the hall. Ma’ll be home around one.”

Darcy nodded, risking a long glance in his and Bucky’s direction. They were all soft sweaters and smiles, and she took the opt-out Steve’d given her, needing to be elsewhere before she did or said something she’d regret. She held her hand out to Bekah. “Come ‘ere. Let’s get in our jammies. You can braid my hair.”

“I don’t braid hair. Jimmy braids hair.”

“I know.”

“ _You know_?”

Steve watched the girls head upstairs, Darcy trying to reign in Bekah’s wildly gesturing hands but not succeeding. He leaned back against Bucky’s legs, pressing his cheek to his boyfriend’s thigh. “She’s here.”

“I’m going to kill our mothers.”

“I’m going to smother your sister in her sleep.”

“She’s here, love,” Bucky said. “Merry Christmas.”


	10. Not so Silent Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday festivities continue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> We know it's not Christmastime anymore, but hopefully you'll indulge us.  
> I mean, who doesn't like presents, right?  
> And all you readers out there? You're freaking gifts!  
> (Didja see what we did there?)  
> <3  
> You guys make us grin like crazy with all the kudos and comments and reblogs!  
> 
> 
>   
> 
> 
>   
> 

After banking the fire and making sure that Ma had made it back to the house in one piece, Steve and Bucky made their way up to Steve’s room. They were curled under the impossibly warm down comforter and a quilt that Winnie had made for Steve when his dad had passed, each square an old shirt that Joe Rogers had loved.

“Your sister’s right, y’know,” Steve said as he idly traced circles on Bucky’s chest with his finger.

“Mmmm?” 

“About us. About Darcy. About all three of us.”

Bucky shifted so he could look at Steve, an eyebrow raising. “What’re you thinking, punk?”

“We need to talk to her,” Steve said, writing Darcy’s name on Bucky’s chest, over and over. “That dream…”

Bucky nodded, looking up at the ceiling, snippets of the shared dream flashing in his mind again, body immediately responding to the memories. “I know.”

“But we can’t push. I _want_ to, though,” Steve breathed, shivering slightly despite how warm he was. “Did you see how the fire lit her face?”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered, voice warming with attraction. He’d watched her joke with his dad, Darcy absently curling her hair around a finger as she gave George Barnes her whole attention, the type of focus that was genuine and honest. “I saw. And her dress?”

“And her shampoo.”

They were quiet for a beat, both of them playing the night on repeat in their minds, a grin blossoming on each of their faces. Pulled out of memories, Bucky squeezed Steve against his chest, pressing his lips to his boyfriend’s hair. “I love you.”

“I know,” Steve said, certain Bucky felt like he needed some kind of reassurance, and giving it readily. It was amazing and made his heart beat faster, still in awe that his best friend had become so much more. Thinking of Darcy with anything other than friendship was new, and different, but as long as they were honest and communicated with each other… “But it’s Darcy. And I know.”

“So we talk to her. We enjoy that she’s here with us for Christmas, then after, we talk.”

Steve stretched up to kiss Bucky, just a soft, slow slide of their lips. “I love you,” he murmured against Bucky’s mouth, before pressing in again. 

It felt like it’d been forever since Steve’s skin was pressed against his, warm and soft, and Bucky’s lips found Steve’s, light at first, but building. He pulled Steve up so the line of his body pressed down on his, the weight welcome and comforting. He felt Steve shiver as his nails scratched down his back, Steve’s sound of want making Bucky smile against the blond’s lips. “Like that?” he asked, pulse thumping strongly under his skin, speeding quicker.

Steve hummed his answer, hands pressed into the bed on either side of Bucky’s head, lips feeding at Bucky’s. “Just like that,” he breathed, hissing when Bucky repeated the movements, this time up his back, his body vibrating at the feeling. 

He moved his hands into Bucky’s hair, tugging lightly to tilt his head so Steve could nip at Bucky’s earlobe and the sensitive spot behind his ear that always made goosebumps crawl down his skin. He felt Bucky growing hard against his hip, and Steve was still amazed that _he_ was the cause of Bucky’s pleasure. “You feel so good. Love the way you taste, the way you sound.”

Bucky shifted his hips up and into Steve, pressing himself against Steve’s cock. The friction was delicious and his eyes rolled back in his head at the feel of Steve against him. He rubbed his face along the stubble on Steve’s chin before slanting his lips against Steve’s. “Want you all the time.”

Steve lifted Bucky enough to pull both of their shirts off, enjoying the slide of skin against skin. He ran his hands down Bucky’s sides to slip under the top of his flannel pants, playing with the top curve of his ass. “Wanna get my mouth on you. I know you think about it. Both of our mouths on you at the same time.” Steve grinned at the surprised groan that came from his lover.

Hearing Steve mention Darcy’s mouth sent his heart pounding more than it already was. He’d thought about it, both of them, since their dream had given him a glimpse of what it could be like. Darcy on one side, Steve on the other, skin everywhere. “Not fair,” Bucky growled, hips bucking upward into Steve. The chuckle rumbling in Steve’s chest turned into a groan as their erections rubbed together, pressure and friction and _so warm_. Bucky’s fingernails scratched down Steve’s back again, knowing there’d be red lines on the skin, before both hands dug into Steve’s ass, pulling him closer.

“Mmm, we could keep you laid back, eyes closed, so you would have to guess whose mouth was teasing your cock, tongue slipping on, and off, and around,” Steve’s voice rumbled deep against Bucky’s chest, feeling affected by his own words.

Bucky shivered then moaned Steve’s name. “Jesus, Steve. The mouth on you.” Steve made his way down Bucky’s body, nipping at smooth muscle, leaving a mark right under his nipple, mouthing at Bucky’s cock through the fabric.

Hand grabbing a fistfull of Steve’s hair, Bucky watched Steve’s eyes glance up at him, lashes dark, his blue gaze filled with heat. He was hard, hot and ready, and he groaned when Steve dipped a hand under the waistband of his pajama pants, fingers wrapping around his cock. “ _Fuck_ , Steve.”

Steve smirked up at Bucky then pulled the fabric further down, keeping his lips just out of reach of where they _both_ wanted them to be. “Her red lips here,” he breathed, gaze flicking up to see Bucky looking down at him with wide eyes, lips parted and panting.

Bucky sighed, his hips bucking involuntarily, wanting to feel Steve’s lips wrapped around him, wanting to thrust and drive himself into the warmth of Steve’s perfect mouth.

Steve hummed as he slowly licked the bead of precome off of Bucky’s tip, then took as much of Bucky in his mouth all as he could. He wrapped his hand around the base of Bucky, moving both his mouth and hand slowly up and then back down. He did it again, arousal shooting straight to his dick as Bucky chased Steve’s mouth with his hips.

 _Imagine how Darcy must taste_ , Steve thought at Bucky, his voice like a caress against the other man’s ear. _Making her come on my cock and then you sucking me off_. Steve ground his hips into the bed, seeking any kind of relief. _Fuck_.

“Christ, Steve. How’d you even...” Bucky gasped as warm hands pushed his legs further apart, Steve’s long fingers tracing lines over his hips, cupping his balls and rolling them gently. “Oh, my God.” He loved the way Steve tasted, and had spent some time just licking and mouthing his dick, drenching himself in the smell and flavor of his boyfriend. The thought of tasting Darcy there as well? He thought he might explode.

Steve pulled his head back with a pop, smirking up at Bucky. His lover was flushed down his chest, pupils blown wide, hair already wild from Steve tugging on it. He was so beautiful strung out like this, and it hadn’t even been more than five minutes. Steve felt a small bit of pride that _he_ was the one who did this to Bucky. Who _got_ to do this to him.

Bucky could feel every inch of his skin where it touched Steve’s, scalding hot and thrumming with desire. Imaging Darcy’s dark hair mixing with Steve’s blond made stars blossom and explode when he screwed his eyes shut, trying to keep from coming, only a hair's breadth away. “Don’t stop, _fuck_ Steve, don’t stop,” he begged, his eyes snapping open, frenzy on his face.

Steve slipped his mouth over Bucky again, using his tongue to stroke the sensitive spot just under his head, tasting even more salty precome as it slipped from Bucky. Steve let Bucky thrust into his mouth, catching as much of the movement as he could. 

_C’mon, love, let go, come for me._ Steve’s voice in Bucky’s head sounded low and rough. God, he was close to coming himself, just from watching Bucky climb higher. He grunted in surprise when Bucky hauled Steve up by his arms, devouring Steve’s mouth, with tongue and teeth and a low moan. Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky’s cock, jerking him off, using the leftover spit and precome as lubrication.

“Need to taste you,” Bucky growled against Steve’s lips, thrusting into Steve’s hands, hips bucking in strong, uneven movements. He drew Steve’s bottom lip into his mouth, teeth biting down, Steve’s moan silenced by the press of lips on lips. “With me,” he grunted, grey eyes pleading with Steve, mouth parted and panting.

He was so close, _so_ close, and it just took the dream’s memory of Darcy behind Steve, teeth digging into the flesh of his shoulder as Bucky caught sight of her hazel gaze, to send him over the edge, coming with a shout of Steve’s name. He felt Steve climax a second later, spilling himself between their bodies, a shudder running up and down his back.

It felt like he’d rode wave after wave of his orgasm, dizzy with satiation, muscles aching with the strain, before Bucky caught his breath. He felt the last shivers of bliss vibrate through Steve as he came down, forehead pressed against his, slick with sweat. “Fuck,” Bucky said, utterly sated.

“Do you have any idea how goddamn hot you get me, just watching you fall apart?” Steve huffed between deep breaths. Bucky hadn’t touched him beyond kissing him and letting him rut against his leg like a horny teenager, and it’d been enough. _More_ than enough. “Fuck, the things you do to me.” He turned into Bucky, wrapping an arm across his chest, lazily tracing circles. He was sweaty, and sticky, and perfectly content. 

“Love you, jerk.”

“Love you, too, punk.”

The room was quiet, except for the cracks coming from the fire and their breathing slowing. Both of them were too comfortable to move from the bed, and it took so very little to Use, cleaning themselves up with a flash of flame and ebony in their eyes. Some time had passed, both of them happily dozing, enjoying the feeling of contentment, lulled by the serene feeling that had fallen over the room. Steve’s voice pulled Bucky from the edge of sleep. “Hey, Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“What does a guy gotta do to convince you to fuck him until he can’t remember his own name?”

“Just ask nicely,” Bucky said, grinning up at the ceiling, eyes closed happily. He’d been left to wonder if Steve had _always_ been this insatiable before his Ascension, or if it’d been a side effect of the Power surging through him. Whatever it was, Bucky was more than happy to make Steve shout his name until it echoed off the walls.

“Please?”

That one word from Steve’s mouth would have him agreeing to anything, and not for the first time, Bucky wondered how he’d ever been able to deny his unending attraction to his best friend. Years and years had passed, thinking about being here, loving Steve from afar, never accepting that it could be real. And now he was here, and it still felt like some sort of fever dream.

Bucky shifted until he pressed his body on top of Steve’s, kissing him languidly, taking his time. He wanted Steve shuddering and begging for him. He trailed his hands down Steve’s ribs, fingers digging into his hips, licking at Steve’s lips until he flicked his tongue and moved along his jawline. “Can’t say no to you,” Bucky whispered hungrily, sucking on Steve’s collarbone.

Steve loved it when he got marked up by Bucky; bruises, bites, and scratches that made him red at the memory of how he gotten them, the truth that he was Bucky’s and Bucky was his. He whined when Bucky’s mouth traveled lower, tongue circling slowly around one nipple. Bucky’s breath was warm against Steve’s skin, and Steve bucked in surprise when he felt teeth catch his nipple oh so carefully. “Shit, fuck, god, Bucky. Please. Please, don’t stop, God, never stop. Feels so good,” Steve groaned out, feeling Bucky’s breath hitch. He went to run his hands through Bucky’s hair when his wrists were caught and Bucky stretched up, holding Steve’s hands against the comforter.

“Nope. Keep your hands up above your head, no touching.” 

Bucky felt Steve stretch both arms above his head, following his instructions. He grinned against Steve’s chest, pressing lips against the skin over Steve’s ribs. He loved how Steve didn’t question him, trusting that Bucky would make sure he was safe, never doubting his intentions. He made his way down Steve’s body, teeth nipping and mouth sucking every few inches. He felt Steve’s cock bump against his chin, smearing with precome.

Bucky sat back, reaching up to run a finger along his chin, catching the drop. He looked up at Steve as he stuck the finger in his mouth, letting his tongue roll, tasting Steve, wanting to be surrounded by Steve by all his senses at once.

“Homygod,” Steve gasped out, nothing more than a hot breath of air. He watched as Bucky pulled his flannel bottoms the rest of the way off, landing somewhere over the side bed. He looked like an oil painting, with stark, vivid colors that shifted in the firelight. Delicious skin against navy sheets. Steve could see Bucky was already hard again, bobbing against his stomach, and Steve’s mouth watered at the thought of having Bucky anywhere in him. He shivered as Bucky made his way back up his body, nipping at his ankle, behind his knee, along the flat plane of his stomach, deliberately missing right where Steve wanted him.

Bucky lifted Steve’s leg so it rested on his shoulder, hands running down the muscle of Steve’s thigh, pulling him tighter against his body, the slide of skin intoxicating. “The things you do to me,” Bucky breathed, turning his head to press lips the side of Steve’s foot. He lowered Steve’s leg, pushing his knee outward, slowly moving down until he hovered over Steve’s cock, breath fanning against it.

He looked up the line of Steve’s body as he writhed. Steve’s hand was gripping the bed sheets above his head, turning them in fistfuls with the effort. “You’re being so good,” Bucky growled, fingers digging into Steve’s hips as he slid his lips around Steve for the first time, moving centimeter by centimeter, wetting him with his tongue.

Steve tried to keep himself from jumping when he felt a warm, wet finger circling around his opening. He didn’t know which way to move his hips - either up into Bucky’s warm, wet mouth, or down, pressing into Bucky’s knuckles, working to push that finger in him. He whined when he heard the click of the lube open, and then even more wetness and pressure as Bucky slowly worked a finger in him, and back out, to the same rhythm as his mouth.

Humming around Steve’s cock, Bucky added another finger, curling them upward, hearing the sharp intake of breath as he passed over the spot that made Steve squirm.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Steve gasped, fingernails biting into his palms to keep for reaching down and fisting in Bucky’s hair. 

Bucky added a third finger and moved in tandem, mouth sucking up and down as his fingers coaxed him. When Steve was writhing, twisting against the mattress, Bucky lifted his mouth from him, fingers digging his hips. “Turn around.”

He waited until Steve had flipped over, raising onto his knees, before he wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist and pulled him flush against his body, dick pressing between Steve’s cheeks, hot and warm and aching. “Want me in you? Pounding into you until you can’t breathe, gasping my name?”

Want shot down Steve’s spine, making him feel light headed. He could feel his heart pounding and throbbing everywhere, his pulse racing. He tried to move against Bucky, but Bucky’s arms around his waist held him still, just the head of Bucky’s cock teasing. “Please love, please fuck me, want you in me, want you to fuck me until I can’t think.” Steve whined, his hands trying to find purchase anywhere. “Wanna come around your dick, feel you lose it in me, please, _please_ ,” he begged.

Bucky listened, pushing into Steve slowly, _so slowly_ , until they were both whimpering with the feel of it. He stopped moving when he was completely surrounded by Steve, their bodies connected, morphing into one twitching and vibrating being. He let out a breath as he pulled back, eyes rolling closed at the tightness, warmth, and softness of Steve’s body, only making Bucky hungry and wild for more. More skin. More heat. More Steve. More of this man than should be allowed. 

When he was _almost_ falling from Steve, just this side of disconnecting, Bucky rolled his hips and crashed back into him, both of them gasping at the delicious abrupt movement. He was deep, deeper than before, and Bucky groaned at the feeling.

“Fuck yes again. Oh, god, there, please there.” Steve almost screamed when Bucky slammed back in again. He chanted Bucky’s name over and over again, balls tight against his body, cock bouncing, leaving trails of precome on his stomach. Bucky felt so hot in him, so full, and Steve never wanted it to stop. The bedroom was filled with the sounds of skin on skin, moans of pleasure, and Steve begging to be able to touch himself or Bucky. He wanted to come so badly, wanted to fall apart all over his love.

When he couldn’t hold back anymore, Bucky wrapped his left arm around Steve’s body, pulling so he was extended and stretched upward. He licked his right palm and then wrapped it around Steve’s cock, thumb rubbing the head as he began to match his hands movement with the thrust of his hips. He felt like a starving man as he bucked into Steve, Steve’s ass tight around him, desperate for release. “ _FuckyesStevefuckgonnacomegonnacomenow_ ,” he panted, pumping once, twice, until he was gone, filling Steve, hand squeezing around Steve’s dick.

Steve reached behind him to hold on to Bucky’s ass, pulling him closer, deeper, so Steve could feel every part of Bucky possible moving against him. He was so oversensitive that the hand still on his dick was almost edging into pain, and he loved it. Little dots danced at the edge of Steve’s vision, and he knew he was so close to coming again. Steve chanted Bucky’s name over and over again, begging to come, waiting until Bucky gave his say so.

Bucky felt weightless, like all his bones had disappeared, so warm and so comfortable buried deep within Steve. He could hear the little sounds of want falling from Steve’s lips, and each sound made his hips jerk reflexively. His hand gained speed as he leaned forward to rest his chin on Steve’s shoulder. He took the blond’s earlobe between his teeth and bit down softly. “Come for me, love,” he whispered, wanting to feel Steve’s body twitch and jump around him as he came. “Now.”

Steve’s entire body went taut as pleasure shot through him at his lover’s words. A high whine left his throat when Bucky continued to stroke him, using just the slightest bit of Power to keep Steve in the throes of his orgasm. Steve twitched at each pulse of pleasure, not able to think beyond the man in him. It was perfect. He sagged back against Bucky when he was done, body feeling like a boneless as a jellyfish. Steve couldn’t really hear what Bucky was saying, but the tone was full of praise and love, sweet words as he came down. “Mmmm. Love you.”

Another stray thought and they were both clean again. Bucky wrapped himself around Steve, whose eyes still fluttered every few seconds, whose face had smoothed in satisfaction. The fact that Steve, with just a whisper and a look, could pull him so completely apart… it was dangerous, and exhilarating, and still a little unbelievable. His fingers trailed up and down Steve’s chest, exposed and uncovered as they cooled down. The fire was _just this side_ of too hot and Bucky laid there enjoying the afterglow, watching Steve’s face. “Love you too, punk.”

Steve stretched languorously. Instead of being pulled down into sleepy contentment, Steve felt full of energy and desire. He didn’t know if it was the Power, Bucky, or the simple fact that he was a male in his twenties, but his want for Bucky didn’t seem like it’d be cooling any time soon. He pulled Bucky’s hand to his mouth and kissed each fingertip before biting down softly at the base of his thumb.

“You know, they called this the mount of Venus,” he said. “I read in one of the family books about it. Full of lines, and color, and _meanings_.” Steve followed Bucky’s hand to his wrist, licking at the pounding pulse there. “I just had you and I want you again. Seems like I can’t stop wanting you.”

“That’s good, because I have absolutely no intention of letting you stop wanting me anytime soon,” Bucky said, leaning in to press his lips against Steve’s, trying to put words and meaning into the action without vocalizing. Words just didn’t do his feelings justice, not when it came to Steve, and if that meant he’d have to spend his life _showing_ his love instead of saying it, then Bucky had no problem taking on the task.

**Jane:** _So how’s it going? ___  
 **Darcy:** _Only one egg nog allowed, remind me tomorrow so I remember for today ___  
 **Jane:** _… ___  
 **Jane:** _What did you do? _  
 **Darcy:** _NOG _____  


Rebecca Barnes snored like a freaking freight train. Darcy giggled as she clicked the video option on her phone. Bekah was in her Christmas jammies, covered in geckoes, and her hair was curled around her face. If not for the noise, and the fact that Darcy knew it was a dirty lie, Bekah almost looked angelic.

Having already made a trip to the ensuite bathroom to make sure her face was washed and her teeth brushed, Darcy made her way down to where she could hear soft instrumental music playing in the kitchen, the soft lights of the morning filtering in through the windows. When she stepped into the kitchen proper, she was greeted by the smells of delicious food, as well as Sarah Rogers, who was standing at the oven in her soft blue robe. “Are you sure you don’t work for the CIA or MI6 or something?” 

“They asked. I declined. I like fixing people too much,” Sarah said, turning around to smile warmly at Darcy. “I’m surprised you’re up so early. You handled the nog better than I thought you would.”

“Glad to see _I_ can surprise _you_ ,” Darcy said as she slid onto a stool. The kitchen was ridiculous, all granite and stainless steel, but somehow Sarah had kept it cozy and comfortable. “Anything I can help with?” She laughed at the look Sarah leveled at her. “Yeah, no, I’ll just sit here like a schlub.”

“There’s absolutely nothing schlubby about you, doll,” Bucky said as he walked into the kitchen, covering his mouth as he yawned.

Bucky’s hair was sticking up in all directions, and his eyes looked like they weren’t ready to be open yet. Darcy had a flashback to the morning after Halloween, when he and Steve had been inches away and both smelling like sleepy boy. She looked down as Sarah set a glass of orange juice in front of her at the island, the older woman’s eyes sparkling. Darcy was happy for the distraction, glad she was able to tear her eyes from where they’d been staring. She picked up the glass and took a large sip, after which she immediately grimaced, squealing a sound of surprise before she set the glass down and started coughing heavily, slapping at her chest.

“Mmmm, I hate drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth, too. Tastes horrible,” Bucky said with an empathetic expression. 

“Ugh, no, _nope_ , no, this has vodka in it,” Darcy said, sticking her tongue out, nose crinkling as the alcohol burned down her throat, “a _lot_ of vodka.” Sarah laughed, loud and full, as she turned back to the stove. _Reminder to self: Do not let Sarah Rogers make you a drink._

Letting out a rumbling chuckle, Bucky sat across from Darcy, gently setting his head on his arms on the table, blinking tired eyes at her. “The nog makes Steve snore. I almost killed him,” he grumbled.

“It did the same to my Joseph.”

The affection in Sarah’s tone made Darcy’s eyebrows knit together in empathy. “I wish I could have met him,” she said, watching as Sarah glanced over her shoulder, “he seems like he was one hell of a guy.”

“Oh, he was. And he would have loved you, Darcy dear.”

Grinning at the thought, Darcy watched Sarah turn back to her task before she turned her attention to the man across from her, eyes sparking with amusement. “I took video of your sister instead of murdering her.”

Bucky sat up at Darcy’s information, brows lifting with mirth. “Oh, oh, please let me see.” He accepted the coffee, with just cream and sugar, from Sarah when she set it on the table in front of him, eyes following Darcy as she came closer.

Darcy slid off her stool, padding around the table. She flipped through the apps on her phone and pulled up the video. She held it, cupping her head near the bottom so the sound amplified, and came to stand by Bucky’s side, their heads crowded next to each others as they watched. The video started near black, but seconds later, the flash illuminated the guest room. 

‘ _And here we have the sleeping spider monkey_ ’, Darcy’s voice in the video said in a whisper. Bekah was laid on her back, mouth open, arms and legs splayed out like a starfish. As her chest lifted, the speakers were filled with a loud and rumbling snore. Darcy in the video giggled softly, as Darcy in the kitchen did the same, knowing what happened next. Bucky had to reach out to steady the phone as Darcy’s shoulders shook with laughter. ‘ _Now let’s see if we can quiet the beast._ ’

The phone jiggled for a few seconds, and eventually Darcy’s blue fingernails came into frame, making pinchers in the air before reaching toward Bekah’s face. Darcy waited until she took a deep breath in, then pinched Bekah’s nose closed. There was silence for a moment, then Bekah made a gasping sound. As Darcy let go of her nose, a large exhale of air roared from Bekah’s chest, punctuated with the sound of a deafening fart.

Bucky was laughing so hard he’d gone silent, his whole body shaking with it. Darcy had hidden her face in her elbow, trying not to cackle and wake the rest of the house. Bucky wrapped his arms around Darcy’s shoulders, pulling her close. She had no idea, but she’d just given him the best gift she could, and he pressed a thankful kiss to her temple. “That’s... oh, Darce…”

He left one arm loosely wrapped around her shoulders while he used his other to navigate to her text messages to send a copy of the video to himself, for future blackmail purposes. As Darcy continued to laugh, turning when Sarah said something, he scrolled through her phone, trying to find his name. He frowned, realizing that everyone seemed to be under code names. He immediately knew Jane was under the name ‘Pop Tartiest Pop’ but it took him a little longer to find his.

Finally, he located his number. _That Smile_ had a conversation from a couple of days before, when he’d texted Darcy, reminding her she was more than welcome to join them for Christmas, apparently before the women of the family had taken it upon themselves to make it happen.

Darcy was talking animatedly with Sarah, who’d heard the video and was laughing herself, and after he’d sent the video to himself, he hit the home button and set it on the counter, stopping himself from snooping. His interest was piqued, though, wondering what nickname Steve was under.

Bucky looked up when Steve walked into the kitchen, wearing his flannel pajamas and looking all sorts of delicious. He grinned, chest still pinging with attraction every time he saw his boyfriend. “Guess what amazing thing Darcy got?”

“I heard you guys laughing as I was coming down the hall,” Steve said by way of greeting. He wrapped his arms around his mother from behind, dropping a kiss on the top of her head before making his way to Darcy’s side.

Darcy just grinned and played the video again for him. Seconds later, Sarah actually had to sit down because she was laughing so hard, and Steve had to wipe tears out of his eyes, using the counter as a crutch to stay on his feet. Bucky was leaning against Darcy, snickering against her shoulder, his chuckles low and rumbling.

“This… this is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Steve finally managed to get out, face red with laughter, his hand wrapping around Darcy’s to steady the phone, intent on watching it for a third time.

“What’s amazing?” Bekah yawned, blinking at them from the doorway. All four of them lost it again, laughing harder at Bekah’s confused face and then at each others reactions. Bekah frowned. “You guys are weird. It’s too fucking early for this shit.”

“Just keep your jammies on,” Sarah said to Darcy from next to the tree, giving her guest an excited smile. “Winnie and George will have theirs on, too.”

Darcy’s eyes were wide as she looked up at the huge tree, every inch of it covered in lights and ornaments. The formal tree in the front room was all gold and silver with white crocheted snowflakes, but Sarah called this the ‘family tree’. Darcy could see oddly shaped clay ornaments, and something that looked like spray painted macaroni. “So, how does this work?” Darcy asked, not used to the traditions she hadn’t grown up with.

Steve perked up from in front of the fire. “The Barnes’ bring breakfast goodies, and then Ma passes out presents from under the tree until everyone’s opened theirs. Then we have leftovers from last night and hanging out until whenever. Usually by ten everyone’s ready for a nap.”

“Ma’s making those mini sausage biscuits again this year,” Bekah pouted from her place on the couch, still peeved that they wouldn’t share what was so funny from earlier.

“So much _foooooood_ ,” Darcy groaned happily, resting a hand on her stomach, pretty sure she was still full from _last night’s_ meal. ”How are you all not over 400 pounds each?”

“One cannot subsist on pop tarts and ramen alone,” Steve said, throwing a grin Darcy’s way. 

“I have a pint-sized brunette who would argue with you, and come out with citations and sources to prove how wrong you are.”

Bucky snorted. Of that he had no doubt.

“There are a few things under the tree with your name on it, dearie,” Sarah said, glancing up at Darcy with a smile. She watched Darcy’s face fall. “Oh, no, dear, it’s fine. It’s our fault for going overboard. Your presence is the only present we need from you, which is already much more than we could’ve hoped for.”

Darcy had struggled on what to get the boys. She didn’t have a lot of extra money, so she’d gone with inexpensive but thoughtful. She hadn’t even _thought_ to buy anything for anyone else. She’d been planning Steve and Bucky’s gifts since Thanksgiving; it was new for her, having people to buy gifts for that weren’t her immediate family and Jane. She looked up when Steve patted her knee, pulling her focus. 

Steve internally kicked himself. He knew Darcy took pride in her work, but he’d heard her talk several times about how, while her jobs were rewarding, her pay barely covered tuition, room and board, and books. In fact, she’d said that if she hadn’t gotten a scholarship, she wouldn’t be able to afford Trinity at all. “Really, Darcy, it’s fine. They’re adopters. They adopt you in and then you’re stuck. It’s what they do. Don’t give it another thought.”

Still feeling guilty, Darcy nodded, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. She was grateful when Winnie and George came in the front door, relieved that the focus was pulled away from her.

“It’s colder than a witch’s nipple in a brass bra out there,” Winnie swore as she came into the room, shaking dramatically with the cold. “Why haven’t you swept me off to Bimini yet, my love?”

“ _Sand_ , my dearest. You hate having sand, and I quote, in all your ‘most delicate and delicious lady bits’,” George replied dryly, pulling his wife against his side. His pajamas were covered with little dachshunds and mustard bottles, a pair of warm brown slippers on his feet.

Darcy’s eyes strained from behind her glasses, leaning forward as she tried to make out what was dotting the flannel PJs Winnie wore. Her eyes widened when she realized what they were. “Where did you find naked skier fabric?” Darcy asked, giggling.

“Oh, my god, Ma!” came from the other three children, each at the same level of disturbed.

“If you’ll give your attention to my wife’s left butt cheek, you’ll see they are not only naked, but they are also fornicating.”

Darcy laughed when Winnie turned and bent over, everyone else looking away and putting their hands up to block their view, shouting their offenses. “Well, I think they’re adorable,” Darcy said, grinning at Bucky’s mother.

“See? Thank you, Darcy, you have now become my favorite child. Hear that?” Winnie asked, raising her voice so the other three children could hear her loud and clear. “ _Favorite. Child_.”

George fluffed Darcy’s hair as he passed, carrying the bags full of brightly wrapped gifts toward the tree. Darcy snorted, reaching up to pat her hair back into place; she hadn’t showered last night so her curls were large and wild, and completely unable to be reasoned with.

“Steve. Stevie. _Rogers_!”

Blinking, Steve tore his attention from Darcy - with her dark hair and full lips and the pink filling her cheeks from laughing - and looked at Bekah. “Huh?”

“Did you bring down the -”

“Yeah. They’re already under the tree.” His smile mirrored Bekah’s, a glint in both of their eyes. 

Sarah accepted a kiss on the cheek from both Barnes’ before rubbing her hands together in glee. She wasted no time in beginning the festivities, digging into the packages that sat on a gorgeous, hand-sewn tree-skirt. “Darcy, love, these are from me,” Sarah said as she pushed a large pile of boxes toward Darcy, stacked high and piled together with string.

Darcy stared at the pile, feeling overwhelmed, and a little in awe. She opened her mouth to say that it was too much, but she could practically _see_ Sarah’s reply, ready and loaded for the first sign of anything but gratitude and acceptance.

Taking a beat, Darcy lifted her chin. 

_Fuck it._

“Thank you, Ma, this is amazing,” Darcy said, allowing herself to just enjoy the moment. She started at the bottom, choosing to open a large garment box. She pushed the glittery tissue paper aside and pulled out an amazing dark emerald sweater, covered in twists and turns and so, _so very_ soft. Darcy held it up to herself, petting the fabric slowly.

“You got a ‘Ma original’ there!” Bekah exclaimed, her eyes bright. She’d always loved opening presents, and her smile telegraphed as much. At Darcy’s look of confusion, she explained. “Ma Rogers has knit all of us a few things over the years.”

Darcy’s chin dropped toward her chest and she turned to look at Sarah with shock and awe. “You _made_ this?”

“You bet I did. I do hope you like it,” Sarah replied, eyes glowing with pleasure at the disbelief in Darcy’s gaze. Christmas had always been her favorite holiday, and being able to share it with someone who had fit herself so fully into her son’s life was incredible. She’d gotten used to one or two new faces over the years, but they’d never lasted, and while she knew Steve hadn’t known Darcy for a long time, she could see in her boy’s eyes that Darcy was different.

“It’s amazing,” Darcy said, leaving it on her lap so she could run her hands over it. She looked up at everyone, each of them happily grinning in her direction. “Who’s next?”

“Me! Me!” Bekah yelled, hands gesturing wildly toward Sarah.

“Hey! I’m the oldest!”

“Pretty goes before age.”

“Is that so?” When Bekah threw him a defiant look, Bucky’s face turned to look at his boyfriend. “Then by all means, Steve, feel free to open one.”

Bekah made a noise of offense. “You’re an ass.”

“Love you too, sis.”

Laughing, the way Bucky and his twin interacted filling him with happy memories, Steve grabbed a box and tore through the wrapping. Inside was a set of new charcoals, and he looked up at George and Ma Barnes, surprise on his face. “How did you know I was running low?”

“A magician never reveals their secrets. You just promise to make me something beautiful to put up on the wall, deal?”

Steve smiled at Winnie and gave her a nod. “That I can promise.”

Gifts kept coming out from underneath the tree, wrapped box after wrapped box, and Darcy had never seen anything like it. Bucky and Bekah received new computers for school from their parents, clothes, DVDs, and little bits and bobs. Somehow, Darcy was the recipient of more handknits from Sarah, first editions of books she had been dying to get ( _Good Omens_ with both Neil Gaiman’s and Terry Pratchett’s signatures!?), and an amazing cashmere coat from the Barnes’ (“ _I found it on sale, and it just looked like you_ ”).

After all the gifts had been handed out, she looked around the room with bewilderment on her face, feeling nothing short of overwhelmed. “I can’t, wow. Just. _Thank you_. This is too much, but you’ll pry this coat off of me after the zombie apocalypse happens and I am well and truly undead,” Darcy said, smiling at George and Winnie.

“Of course, Darcy dear. We’re happy you like them.”

“I _love_ them,” she said, looking in awe at the pile of amazing at her feet. This was more than she’d ever expected and she felt… happy. Just really, really happy. Getting to experience something so intimate with people she’d come to think of as family filled her with joy. She’d seen amazing holidays like this before, but only in movies, and seeing it in real life was something else altogether.

“There’s still two pretty large gifts under there,” Bucky said, nodded his head toward the two glittery red pieces partially hidden behind the tree.

They all watched as Sarah had to _crawl_ under the tree to pull the packages free. She grunted as she pushed one toward Winnie. “It’s so big!” 

Darcy grinned when Bucky and Bekah snorted with laughter in unison, their father giving a heaving sigh of exasperation, though he threw a wink in her direction when she looked over at him. 

Sarah slipped a finger under one of the folds, gaze flicking up toward Winnie as she did the same. “Same time?”

“Go!”

Sarah and Winnie both tore into the paper, making matching gasps as the frame below was revealed. The wood was beautiful, an ornate black scrolled frame. The mat was gray, which made the oranges and yellows of the leaves in the photo stand out. Bekah, Bucky, and Steve were surrounded by the colors of fall, wearing dark jeans and black sweaters. They were all smiling brightly, their arms around each other. They’d managed to get the shoot in before the snow over Thanksgiving, and they’d taken full advantage of the woods and the weather.

Both Sarah and Winnie had watery smiles, Sarah holding a hand to her chest as she took in the photo. “This is amazing,” she said, looking at the three kids with a large, red-cheeked grin.

Winnie sniffled, wiping the tear as it fell to her cheek. “Gorgeous,” she agreed, turning it so her husband could see.

“Wow,” George breathed, looking between the three of them with a smile. “Did you do this at Thanksgiving?” They nodded, and he looked toward his wife. “Above the fireplace?”

“You read my mind, love.”

Sarah laid it down carefully before attempting to pull all three of them into a hug at once. “I love it so much, thank you.”

Darcy caught the moment with her phone, reminding herself to send it to everyone when they had a moment. When it seemed like things had begun to wind down, Darcy held up her phone and wiggled it through the air. “I regret that I have but one last gift to give,” Darcy said dramatically, nodding to Winnie and George. Everyone but Bekah crowded around her chair, eyes intent on the small, darkened screen in her hands. Bucky, Sarah, and Steve were laughing silently, already knowing what they were about to see, but filled with glee all the same. 

Darcy pressed play.

“ _ **Are you shitting me, Lewis? I am betrayed!**_ “

“ _What?_ ” Darcy yelled over the raucous laughter from everyone else, “what was that, Bekah? I can’t hear you over the sound of your _snoring_.”


	11. Long Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas wraps up in the Rogers/Barnes home, with Darcy and the boys exchanging gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is wrapping up here, but there are still plenty of things to keep you warm! Like this chapter. We hope you love it!
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Winifred and George Barnes had passed out fifteen minutes after they were all done eating, taking up one of the couches in the living room. Bekah was asleep on the other one, luckily on her side and not snoring like a chainsaw. Sarah had ducked out into her hothouse, checking on her roses, making sure they were thriving despite the cold weather. Taking a nap sounded amazing, seeing how she was so full of food, but Darcy had begun to gather her things.

She wasn’t leaving just yet, as she still had something to do, but she wanted to be prepared. Darcy wasn’t sure how this was going to go, so she wanted to be able to make a quick escape if it was possible. Still wearing her new jammies - no use in changing if she was already comfortable - she made sure her bag was packed and ready to go. Holding the two carefully-wrapped presents in her hands, she made her way toward the library. She’d seen Steve and Bucky head that way after brunch and knocked lightly on the door with her knuckles.

Stopping their whispered conversation, Bucky looked up at Darcy. He hoped his face didn’t read that they’d just been talking about her, but they had. “ _Hi_ ,” he said with a grin, “I thought you’d be passed out along with the rest of them.”

“Believe me, the idea has merit,” she said as she made her way into the room, padding until she was standing in front of them. She raised a brow at the looks on their faces. “How are the two of you still vertical?”

Grinning at the expression on her face, Bucky reached out to squeeze Steve’s knee. “Steve has Feelings about this Christmas being The Very Best Ever.”

Darcy could hear the capital letters in Bucky’s voice, smiling that she knew him well enough to make it out. Deciding that it was now or never, she pulled their gifts from behind her back and held them out, stomach flipping with anticipation. “It’s not much, but I hope you like them. Merry Christmas.”

The boxes were wrapped in newspaper, just like his birthday gift had been, and Steve smiled when he realized she’d used the comics section. He spied Marmaduke and the Family Circus on the pages and ran his fingers over the ink, knowing it’d leave a bit of grey on his fingertips. His box was heavy, and when he opened the top, he found a Ball canning jar with a bit of ribbon near the lid. There were layers of powder inside, interspersed with whole chocolate chips, small pieces of caramel, and marshmallows. He read the small craft tag, recognizing the swirly and loopy handwriting..

_For the nights only cocoa can cure - D_

Steve set the jar aside and pulled out a thin, yellow sleeve from the bottom of the box. The front of the CD case was covered in miniature paintings by famous artists. Monet. Rembrandt. Picasso. The only difference being that all of these pictures featured cats inserted into the art. Venus in the foam, with a cat. Dali’s melting clocks, but with melting orange tabbies..

Turning it over, the title _Songs to Insomnia To_ stretched over the track listing. Some of the songs she’d told him about before, during their late night early mornings at the diner, but there were several he hadn’t heard of. “Darcy…”

Darcy caught her lower lip with her teeth, and shook her head. “ _Just listen to the tunes, man_.”

Steve grinned at her terrible Lebowski impression as Bucky began to tear into his gifts. His boyfriend was a paper saver, but Bucky was the type of person who made as much mess as possible, ripping the paper with gusto. He narrowed his gaze. “I swear if these are wrapped kittens…”

Letting out a huff of air, Darcy rolled her eyes at Bucky. “Do you see any air holes? I’m not a _monster_.”

Bucky looked up at Darcy through his lashes and enjoyed the way her cheeks filled with pink when her eyes darted away. He turned back to the box in his hands, shaking it teasingly and raising an eyebrow when it felt suspiciously light. When she didn’t yell at him or say something inside was breakable, he figured he was safe and ran a finger along the seam, breaking the tape holding it closed.

The first thing he saw in the box was a mass of blue and grey. He reached in and pulled it out, not sure yet what _it_ was. It was impossibly soft, and he realized that there were two of them. _Socks_ , he thought, the softest socks he’d ever felt. They weren’t wool, but felt solid and strong and _warm_. 

“Alpaca,” Darcy said, smiling softly. “They’re super soft and the lady I bought them from said they’d keep your feet warm no problem.”

Bucky looked up at her, smiling. Steve had made several comments about how his feet were always freezing, earning a gasp of shock when Bucky would try to warm his toes up against Steve’s calves. _They’re like ice, Buck!_ , he’d complained. Bucky briefly thought that maybe Darcy had heard the stories from Steve, but he knew better. No, Darcy knew because she’d experienced it herself, when they’d all fallen asleep during a movie and been too tired to move, deciding to just sleep in a pile where they were.

Under the socks, he found a mixed CD, just like Steve. The artwork was a blueprint and _Jamie’s Pacing Mix_ was written in bubble letters across the front, a tracklist on the back of the sleeve. Bucky glanced over at Steve with a smile. He knew Darcy had said she didn’t think it was much, but she’d obviously put thought and time into these gifts. “These are… they’re amazing. Thank you.”

“Seriously, Darcy. I can’t wait to try my cocoa. Without my mother spiking it.” When she kept that bright smile pointed at them, Steve let himself look at her for a few moments, committing the look on her face to memory, before he reached on the floor under sofa and grabbed the gold envelope he’d stashed there. “This is from both of us.” Steve sat back to watch her open the envelope, excitement evident in the way his leg bounced.

Darcy took the large envelope from his outstretched hand, her fingers running over the pretty script. She’d seen enough of Steve’s notes to know he’d taken his time writing the words ‘To Our Darcy’ carefully and expertly on the front. Flipping it over, she slipped a blue fingernail under the flap and pulled the sheet of paper out. She unfolded it, her eyes widening as she read the words.

_To the Trinity College Mary Christensen Literary Scholarship Fund  
$500 in the Name of Darcy Lewis._

_To the Hartford PAWS Shelter and Rescue  
$500 in the Name of Darcy Lewis_

_To the Culpeper Animal Shelter  
$500 in the Name of Darcy Lewis_

_To The Literacy Program of Culpeper County Schools  
$1000 in the Name of Darcy Lewis_

_To The Women’s Center of Culver  
$3000 in the Name of Darcy Lewis_

Darcy couldn’t find words. The literary scholarships were for kids who didn’t have easy access to books to help them read, allowing them to get the extra tutelage they needed to succeed. The no-kill shelters were the one she worked at now, as well as the one she’d volunteered for back in her hometown, both them always on the lookout for more supplies for the animals. The women’s center was a clinic that helped women on welfare and scared teens who didn’t have anywhere else to go.

This was going to change people’s lives, and Darcy felt the heavy thump of gratitude and disbelief in her chest. There were already tears in her eyes when she threw herself into Steve’s lap then pulled Bucky closer, until they were all piled together, her arms holding tightly. She sniffled into their shoulders, her heart full to bursting. They couldn’t have gotten her a better present. Knowing that there were people and animals who were going to be better off because she’d met these two amazing men? She was overwhelmed. So very happily overwhelmed. “This is the best birthday for baby Jesus ever. I can’t. You two. _You two_.” 

She snuggled herself in closer as she felt warm arms wrap around her. Steve shifted her so that her legs draped across Bucky’s lap, both of their arms wrapping around her, until she was cradled between their bodies and could snuggle herself closer. They were all soft flannel and woodsmoke, and Darcy couldn’t help but feet safe, and warm, and _right_. 

She’d let herself have it, for just a little while longer.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, doll.” Bucky said into her hair.

“Merry Christmas, Darcy,” Steve echoed.

Darcy squeezed Sarah tightly, overnight bag at her feet, as well as several large paper bags full of the gifts she hadn’t planned for. “You did too much,” she hummed, staying in the circle of Sarah’s arms but pulling back to look at her. “More than -”

“Stop. You never do too much, only just enough until you stop,” Sarah said, running her hands up and down Darcy’s arms. “I love having you here, dearie, and you are welcome back any time, with or without the boys.”

Grinning, Darcy nodded. “I promise I’ll come by for Sunday dinner soon.”

“Oh yes, let us feed you and fill that pretty head with an embarrassment of dirt that can be leveraged or used as blackmail whenever you deem appropriate,” Winifred said as she pulled Darcy away from Sarah, squeezing her hard.

Darcy laughed, pressing a kiss to Winnie’s cheek. “If I can manage to get away, you’ll be the first place I run to,” she said with a grin. “Thank you all, so much,” she said, reaching to wrap her arms around Papa Barnes as well. This was the first time she’d really gotten a chance to have a conversation with the man, and she’d found him to be kind, and generous, and Darcy could see where Bucky got his loving and affectionate nature. 

“Tell your parents we can’t wait to meet them in person. If they made you, they’re the stuff of legends,” Winnie said, reaching out to pinch her cheek.

Only slightly panicked at the thought of _all_ their parents being in the same place at the same time, Darcy nodded, gathering her bags in her hands. She managed to get them all, giving a small wave of her hand when she was offered help. “I’m fine really, I’ll just _oooofph_!”

The bags hit the floor when Bekah all but tackled her. Darcy managed to stay on her feet, but just barely, letting everything that’d been in her hands fall to the floor. Darcy laughed, taking a deep breath of the citrus scent that seemed to stain Bekah’s skin, some kind of leftover effect from living in California in all that sunshine.

“I owe you for the video,” Bekah breathed against Darcy’s hair, voice mischievous and warm at the same time.

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Darcy responded, swaying slightly, happily. “Mmmm, I’m gonna miss you.”

Bekah nodded, pulling back to press her palm to Darcy’s cheek. “You’re amazing, Darcy Love. You should come visit me soon. We can take California and bend it to our womanly and feminine whims.”

Darcy did her best to ignore the small lump that was forming in her throat. How had she come to care about these people _this much_ in such a short amount of time? It seemed impossible, yet here she was, on the verge of tears at the thought of leaving them. She pulled Bekah to her one more time, squeezing tightly before she gathered her bags again.

Steve and Bucky were waiting by the door, watching while Darcy said her goodbyes.

 _I don’t want her to go_ , Steve thought at Bucky, glancing over at him, keeping the small smile on his face despite the way his stomach dropped as she walked toward them.

 _I know_ , Bucky hummed in Steve’s head, _but it won’t be long. Things were better. Are better. Look at her smile._

Darcy laughed when they both darted forward and pried the bags from her hands despite her protests. Sighing in resignation, she turned back and waved at everyone gathered in the foyer before following the boys to the cab waiting out front. They dropped her bags in the trunk before opening the taxi door for her. They stood there, darkness and light, smiling softly at her, none of them in a rush for the moment to end. Darcy’s stomach clenched at the sight, unable to stop her body’s reaction to them, despite how often her brain told her she needed to stop _feeling_ for them. “Thank you, again,” she said, shifting her weight, breath clouding in the air.

This time, Bucky was the first to pull Darcy to him in a tight hug. He tried to hold on to the feeling of her pressed against him, the warmth of her in his arms, but he knew it’d be gone far too soon. “Let us know you got back alright?” he asked.

Darcy nodded against his neck. “Of course.” She squeezed his hand before turning to accept a hug from Steve. He seemed to linger, squeezing her, rocking softly from side to side. When she realized how long they’d been standing there, mostly because the tip of her nose had gone numb, even against Steve, who was like a furnace, she was still shivering. She pulled back with a smile on her lips. “Ok, it’s freezing out here. You should get back inside before you catch a cold. I’ll talk to you soon?”

She waved as the taxi pulled away, then settled into her seat. She had the desperate desire to turn and look at them through the rear window, growing smaller and smaller until they were out of sight, but she made herself stare forward. There was a hurricane of emotions whipping through her mind; she’d been afraid to join them, afraid to watch them and look at them and feel the ache in her chest. And she _did_ have an ache in her chest, but it was different. They were happy, and that made her happy. And wasn’t that what she wanted? For them to be happy?

Darcy hated the idea of not having the boys in her life. It hurt, not being able to see them, or laugh with them, or talk to them about their days. Yes, part of her hurt, phantom pangs for the ghost of an idea that she couldn’t get past, but part of her would rather look at them and ache than not look at them at all.

Nodding to herself, Darcy pulled the phone from her pocket.

**Darcy:** _NOG_  
 **Jane:** _If I get topless selfies…_  
 **Jane:** _… I’d actually be okay with it_  
 **Darcy:** _Merry Christmas, poptart. I’ll call later?_

Darcy lit the shamash candle carefully then closed her eyes as she recited the two blessings, hearing her Bubbe’s accented Hebrew in her mind. She lit the last candle on the right, then the one next to it. She carefully placed the lit menorah in front of the window and watched the light burn in the darkness of Jane’s apartment.

Darcy turned to the insulated bag that Ma Barnes had sent home, insisting that Darcy not open it until _after_ she had lit the candles. Inside were tupperware dishes wrapped in foil. Darcy opened the first one and groaned when the smell hit her. Latkes. A whole container of latkes. Another held donuts, and another the sides for the latkes, and _somehow_ , leftovers from the Christmas meal. Darcy had no idea how everything was still hot.

She sat on Jane’s floor, using the coffee table to eat on. It was quiet, and warm, and as she made herself a plate with leftovers - sour cream and applesauce for the latkes, a chunk of lamb that was still unnaturally juicy - she looked up at the glowing flames in the window and the white-grey sky beyond. The comfortable silence was broken when her phone chirped. She didn’t recognize the number, but clicked the ‘accept’ button anyway, squeezing it between her shoulder and ear. “Hello?”

She smiled when she heard both her mother and father cry ‘ _Happy Hannukah from Paradise!_ ’

“Ah, I see how it is, you called to gloat?”

“ _We’d love for you to be here, sweetheart, but it would totally put a cramp in the anniversary sex,_ ” her mother replied.

“ _Your mother’s right. She’s a foxy lady._ ”

“Awww, nope, no, I don’t miss that at all,” Darcy said, settling back against the couch, imaging her parents sitting at a beachside bar, drinking fruity drinks with umbrellas in them. “It sounds like you’re having a good time. Have you been able to swim with turtles yet?”

“ _I think that’s tomorrow. We’re sitting in the port right now, using the wifi. I hope you’ve been eating, and_ not _just pop tarts and hot pockets_.” Darcy’s mom’s voice was light and happy. It made Darcy smile.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m currently eating latkes?”

“ _Do you have the poison control on speed dial? You didn’t make them yourself, did you?_ ” Darcy couldn’t see her parents, but she knew _her mother had just slapped at her father._

“No, Dad, I didn’t make them myself. Mrs. Barnes made them and sent me home with a bunch. So you don’t need to worry about me eating. You’ll just have to help guide the crane that will remove me from this apartment when I’m too fat to go through the doors.” She heard her Dad laugh and smiled to herself. 

“ _I’m so glad you had a place to go so you weren’t alone, honey. When we come visit we’ll definitely have to meet everyone. I need to thank them in person. With desserts._ ” 

Darcy’s eyes widened. The idea of her parents meeting and discussing things with Jamie and Steve’s parents still made her heart skip a beat. “Yeah, well, I mean, I’d understand if you can’t visit until the year is over. You’re so busy and you know how crazy busy libraries can be...” 

“ _Mmmhmmm_ ,” her mother hummed into the earpiece, voice unconvinced by Darcy’s attempt to brush it off. “ _In any case, I’m happy you’re being taken care of._ ” 

Darcy ate a forkful of latkes, chewing thoughtfully. “I really have, Mom. Between Jane and the boys, and the boys’ extended families… I’m good.” 

“ _We’re happy to hear that, sweetheart._ ” 

Darcy smiled in the quiet apartment, gaze flicking up to the window and the flames still burning. “I love you guys.” 

“ _We love you, too, honey. You’re my favorite kid,_ ” Darcy’s dad’s voice was warm in her ear. 

“I’m your only kid.” 

“ _Still stands. Love you kiddo._ ” 

“Love you mostest. Call me when you get to port next.” 

“ _Will do. Be safe._ Chag Urim Sameach _._ ” 

“ _Hanukkah Sameach_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may know this about me (Vee), but music plays a giant part in my writing. Since Darcy made music mixes for the boys, I _actually_ made the mixes, complete with art work. Consider this my (very late) Xmas present to yoooouuuuuu! <3  
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> ...aaaannnddddd just because I'm weird, I also have a mix for Ward (sans artwork) that can be found [RIGHT HERE](http://www.mediafire.com/folder/4q5gocbil7kgy/Ward's_Mix)

**Author's Note:**

>  **OG** : Weeeee’re baack! Thanks so much for hanging in with us! The kudos and comments were sorely needed encouragement to get this going again. SMOOCHES.  
>  **GV** : Seriously. Guys. This is happening. Part two. I'M SO FRIGGIN' EXCITED to come back to this world and these characters. Playing with magic? So. Much. Fun. And getting to daydream about these pretty people? *heart eyes* <3<3<3
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> You can find us on Tumblr!  
> [Goddessvicky](http://goddessvicky.tumblr.com/) & [OctoberGryphon](http://octobergryphon.tumblr.com/)!


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